“Lizzy, you will offend me if you make use of such language.  I tell you he is hateful to me,” replied Miss Hubert.

“Of course, you ought to know your own state of mind best,” said Lizzy Edgar.  “If it is really as you say, I must confess that my observation has not been accurate.  As to there being anything in Mr. Clinton to inspire an emotion of contempt, or create so strong a dislike as you express, I have yet to see it.  To me he has ever appeared in the light of a gentleman.”

“Then suppose you make yourself agreeable to him, Lizzy,” said Miss Hubert.

“I try to make myself agreeable to every one,” replied the even-minded girl.  “That is a duty I owe to those with whom I associate.”

“Whether you like them or not?”

“It doesn’t follow, because I do not happen to like a person, that I should render myself disagreeable to him.”

“I never tolerate people that I don’t like,” said Miss Hubert.

“We needn’t associate too intimately with those who are disagreeable to us,” returned her friend; “but when we are thrown together in society, the least we can do is to be civil.”

“You may be able to disguise your real feelings, but I cannot.  Whatever emotion passes over my mind is seen in my face and discovered in my tone of voice.  All who know me see me as I am.”

And yet, notwithstanding this affirmation, Margaret Hubert did not, at all times, display her real feelings.  And her friend Lizzy Edgar was right in assuming that she was by no means indifferent to Mr. Clinton.  The appearance of dislike was assumed as a mask, and the distance and reserve she displayed towards him were the offspring of a false pride and unwomanly self-esteem.  The truth was, her heart had, almost unsought, been won.  The manly bearing, personal grace and brilliant mind of Philip Clinton, had captivated her feelings and awakened an emotion of love ere she was conscious that her heart was in danger.  And she had even leaned towards him instinctively, and so apparently that the young man observed it, and was attracted thereby.  The moment, however, he became at all marked in his attentions, the whole manner of Margaret changed.  She was then aware of the rashness she had displayed, and her pride instantly took the alarm.  Reserve, dignity, and even hauteur, characterized her bearing towards Clinton; and to those who spoke of him as a lover, she replied in terms nearly similar to what she used to her friend Lizzy Edgar, on the occasion to which reference has just been made.

All this evidenced weakness of mind as well as pride.  She wished to be sought before she was won—­at least, that was the language she used to herself.  Her lover must come, like a knight of old, and sue on bended knee for favor.