It is a peculiarity of female diplomatists that they fear none save their own sex.

Men they regard as their natural prey: in women they see rival hunters using their own weapons.

The Countess smiled a slowly-kindling smile up to him, set her brother adrift, and delicately linked herself to Evan's benefactor.
'I have been thinking,' she said, 'knowing your kind and most considerate attentions, that we may compromise you in England.' He at once assured her he hoped not, he thought not at all.
'The idea is due to my brother,' she went on; 'for I--women know so little!--and most guiltlessly should we have done so.

My brother perhaps does not think of us foremost; but his argument I can distinguish.

I can see, that were you openly to plead Silva's cause, you might bring yourself into odium, Mr.Jocelyn; and heaven knows I would not that! May I then ask, that in England we may be simply upon the same footing of private friendship ?' The diplomatist looked into her uplifted visage, that had all the sugary sparkles of a crystallized preserved fruit of the Portugal clime, and observed, confidentially, that, with every willingness in the world to serve her, he did think it would possibly be better, for a time, to be upon that footing, apart from political considerations.
'I was very sure my brother would apprehend your views,' said the Countess.