"I'm glad it's so much cooler in the house than it is outdoors."

"Yes," he said. "It is pleasanter indoors." And, stopping with
this single untruth, he permitted himself the briefest glance
about the room; then his eyes returned to his smiling hostess.

"Most people make a great fuss about hot weather," she said.
"The only person I know who doesn't mind the heat the way other
people do is Alice. She always seems as cool as if we had a
breeze blowing, no matter how hot it is. But then she's so
amiable she never minds anything. It's just her character.
She's always been that way since she was a little child; always
the same to everybody, high and low. I think character's the
most important thing in the world, after all, don't you, Mr.
Russell?"

"Yes," he said, solemnly; and touched his bedewed white forehead
with a handkerchief.

"Indeed it is," she agreed with herself, never failing to
continue her murmur of laughter. "That's what I've always told
Alice; but she never sees anything good in herself, and she just
laughs at me when I praise her. She sees good in everybody ELSE
in the world, no matter how unworthy they are, or how they behave
toward HER; but she always underestimates herself. From the time
she was a little child she was always that way. When some other
little girl would behave selfishly or meanly toward her, do you
think she'd come and tell me? Never a word to anybody! The
little thing was too proud! She was the same way about school.
The teachers had to tell me when she took a prize; she'd bring it