nobody else in the house but me. Two young ladies have been
staying here, but they went away yesterday, in despair; and no
wonder. All through their visit (in consequence of Mr. Fairlie's
invalid condition) we produced no such convenience in the house as
a flirtable, danceable, small-talkable creature of the male sex;
and the consequence was, we did nothing but quarrel, especially at
dinner-time. How can you expect four women to dine together alone
every day, and not quarrel? We are such fools, we can't entertain
each other at table. You see I don't think much of my own sex,
Mr. Hartright--which will you have, tea or coffee?--no woman does
think much of her own sex, although few of them confess it as
freely as I do. Dear me, you look puzzled. Why? Are you
wondering what you will have for breakfast? or are you surprised
at my careless way of talking? In the first case, I advise you, as
a friend, to have nothing to do with that cold ham at your elbow,
and to wait till the omelette comes in. In the second case, I
will give you some tea to compose your spirits, and do all a woman
can (which is very little, by-the-bye) to hold my tongue."

She handed me my cup of tea, laughing gaily. Her light flow of
talk, and her lively familiarity of manner with a total stranger,
were accompanied by an unaffected naturalness and an easy inborn
confidence in herself and her position, which would have secured
her the respect of the most audacious man breathing. While it was
impossible to be formal and reserved in her company, it was more
than impossible to take the faintest vestige of a liberty with
her, even in thought. I felt this instinctively, even while I
caught the infection of her own bright gaiety of spirits--even
while I did my best to answer her in her own frank, lively way.