‘What sort of notions?’

’She’d like them all to dress just like herself; and she thinks that they should never talk to young men.  If she was here she’d say I was flirting with you, because we’re sitting together.’

‘But you are not; are you?’

‘Of course I am not.’

‘I wish you would,’ said Brooke.

’I shouldn’t know how to begin.  I shouldn’t, indeed.  I don’t know what flirting means, and I don’t know who does know.  When young ladies and gentlemen go out, I suppose they are intended to talk to each other.’

‘But very often they, don’t, you know.’

‘I call that stupid,’ said Camilla.  ’And yet, when they do, all the old maids say that the girls are flirting.  I’ll tell you one thing, Mr Burgess.  I don’t care what any old maid says about me.  I always talk to people that I like, and if they choose to call me a flirt, they may.  It’s my opinion that still waters run the deepest.’

‘No doubt the noisy streams are very shallow,’ said Brooke.

‘You may call me a shallow stream if you like, Mr Burgess.’

‘I meant nothing of the kind.’

’But what do you call Dorothy Stanbury?  That’s what I call still water.  She runs deep enough.’

‘The quietest young lady I ever saw in my life.’

‘Exactly.  So quiet, but so clever.  What do you think of Mr Gibson?’

‘Everybody is asking me what I think of Mr Gibson.’

’You know what they say.  They say he is to marry Dorothy Stanbury.  Poor man!  I don’t think his own consent has ever been asked yet but, nevertheless, it’s settled.’

’Just at present he seems to me to be what shall I say?  I oughtn’t to say flirting with your sister; ought I?’

’Miss Stanbury would say so if she were here, no doubt.  But the fact is, Mr Burgess, we’ve known him almost since we were infants, and of course we take an interest in his welfare.  There has never been anything more than that.  Arabella is nothing more to him than I am.  Once, indeed—­but, however that does not signify.  It would be nothing to us, if he really liked Dorothy Stanbury.  But as far as we can see, and we do see a good deal of him, there is no such feeling on his part.  Of course we haven’t asked.  We should not think of such a thing.  Mr Gibson may do just as he likes for us.  But I am not quite sure that Dorothy Stanbury is just the girl that would make him a good wife.  Of course when you’ve known a person seven or eight years you do get anxious about his happiness.  Do you know, we think her perhaps a little sly.’