"And then I suppose in the evening you will be tired of talking with me,
and will want to take up your book again."

"Possibly."

"And if you are, you won't hesitate a moment about saying so?"
"Certainly not."

"Well, you are a decidedly frank young lady, Miss Earle; and, after all,
I don't know but what I like that sort of thing best. I think if all the
world were honest we would all have a better time of it here."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I do."

"You believe in honesty, then?"

"Why, certainly. Have you seen anything in my conduct or bearing that
would induce you to think that I did not believe in honesty?"

"No, I can't say I have. Still, honesty is such a rare quality that a
person naturally is surprised when one comes unexpectedly upon it."

George Morris found the forenoon rather tedious and lonesome. He sat in
the smoking room, and once or twice he ventured near where Miss Earle
sat engrossed in her book, in the hope that the volume might have been
put aside for the time, and that he would have some excuse for sitting
down and talking with her. Once as he passed she looked up with a bright
smile and nodded to him.