“And you do not like that!  I will be meekness itself—­a lamb, if you please.”

“Too playful—­it would not suit your style.”

“A stone—­”

“I detest geology.”

“A lap-dog, then.  Make your choice, Madame.  The menagerie of the universe is at your disposal.  When Adam gave names to the animals, he could have called a lion a lap-dog—­to reassure the Africans.  But he lacked imagination—­he called a cat, a cat.”

“That had the merit of simplicity, at all events.”

“Since you admire his system, you may call me either Cain or Abel,” suggested Orsino.  “Am I humble enough?  Can submission go farther?”

“Either would be flattery—­for Abel was good and Cain was interesting.”

“And I am neither—­you give me another opportunity of exhibiting my deep humility.  I thank you sincerely.  You are becoming more gracious than I had hoped.”

“You are very like a woman, Don Orsino.  You always try to have the last word.”

“I always hope that the last word may be the best.  But I accept the criticism—­or the reproach, with my usual gratitude.  I only beg you to observe that to let you have the last word would be for me to end the conversation, after which I should be obliged to go away.  And I do not wish to go, as I have already said.”

“You suggest the means of making you go,” answered Maria Consuelo, with a smile.  “I can be silent—­if you will not.”

“It will be useless.  If you do not interrupt me, I shall become eloquent—­”

“How terrible!  Pray do not!”

“You see!  I have you in my power.  You cannot get rid of me.”

“I would appeal to your generosity, then.”

“That is another matter, Madame,” said Orsino, taking his hat.

“I only said that I would—­” Maria Consuelo made a gesture to stop him.

But he was wise enough to see that the conversation had reached its natural end, and his instinct told him that he should not outstay his welcome.  He pretended not to see the motion of her hand, and rose to take his leave.

“You do not know me,” he said.  “To point out to me a possible generous action, is to ensure my performing it without hesitation.  When may I be so fortunate as to see you again, Madame?”

“You need not be so intensely ceremonious.  You know that I am always at home at this hour.”

Orsino was very much struck by this answer.  There was a shade of irritation in the tone, which he had certainly not expected, and which flattered him exceedingly.  She turned her face away as she gave him her hand and moved a book on the table with the other as though she meant to begin reading almost before he should be out of the room.  He had not felt by any means sure that she really liked his society, and he had not expected that she would so far forget herself as to show her inclination by her impatience.  He had judged, rightly or wrongly, that she was a woman who weighed every word and gesture beforehand, and who would be incapable of such an oversight as an unpremeditated manifestation of feeling.