‘I don’t mean to make any boast about it,’ said Johnny.

’I doubt whether you know anything.  The pretty simplicity of your excellent Lily Dale has sufficed for you.’

‘Never mind about her,’ said Johnny impatiently.

’I do not mind about her in the least.  But an insight into that sort of simplicity will not teach the character of a real woman.  You cannot learn the flavour of wines by sipping sherry and water.  For myself I do not think that I am simple.  I own it fairly.  If you must have simplicity, I cannot be to your taste.’

‘Nobody likes partridge always,’ said Johnny, laughing.

’I understand you, sir.  And though what you say is not complimentary, I am willing to forgive that fault for its truth.  I don’t consider myself to be always a partridge, I can assure you.  I am as changeable as the moon.’

‘And as fickle?’

’I say nothing about that, sir.  I leave you to find that out.  It is a man’s business to discover that for himself.  If you really do know aught of women—­’

‘I did not say that I did.’

’But if you do, you will perhaps have discovered that a woman may be as changeable as the moon, and yet as true as the sun;—­that she may flit from flower to flower, quite unheeding while no passion exists, but that a passion fixes her at once.  Do you believe me?’ Now she looked into his eyes again, but did not smile and did not shake her locks.

’Oh, yes;—­that’s true enough.  And when they have a lot of children, then they become steady as milestones.’

‘Children!’ said Madalina, getting up and walking about the room.

‘They do have them, you know,’ said Johnny.

‘Do you mean to say, sir, that I should be a milestone?’

‘A finger-post,’ said Johnny, ‘to show a fellow the way he ought to go.’

She walked twice across the room without speaking.  Then she came and stood opposite him, still without speaking—­and then she walked about again.  ’What could a woman better be, than a finger-post, as you call it, with such a purpose?’

’Nothing better, of course;—­though a milestone to tell a fellow his distances, is very good.’

‘Psha!’

‘You don’t like the idea of being a milestone?’

‘No!’

‘Then you can make up your mind to be a finger-post.’

‘John, shall I be finger-post for you?’ She stood and looked at him for a moment or two, with her eyes full of love, as though she were going to throw herself into his arms.  And she would have done so, no doubt, instantly, had he risen to his legs.  As it was, after having gazed at him for the moment with her love-laden eyes, she flung herself on the sofa, and hid her face among the cushions.