Now that is why Mr.Tremaine and I get on so well together; he understands and appreciates me so thoroughly." Felicia's pretty month fell into stern lines of disapproval.

"I am sure I should hate Mr.Tremaine if I knew him," she said.
"Oh, no, you wouldn't--you simply couldn't, Felicia, he is so delightful.

And, what is more, he is so frightfully interesting: whatever he says and does, he always makes you think about him.

Now, however fond you were of Chris--and he really is very good and kind in some ways--you could never think about him: it would be such dreadfully uninteresting thinking, if you did." "I don't know about that; Christopher is very comfortable and homelike, somehow," replied Felicia.
"So are rice-puddings and flannel petticoats, but you don't occupy your most exalted moments in meditating upon them." "Do you know, Elisabeth, I sometimes think that Christopher is in love with you." Unlike Elisabeth, Felicia never saw what did not exist, and therefore was able sometimes to perceive what did.
"Good gracious, what an idea! He'd simply roar with laughter at the mere thought of such a thing! Why, Christopher isn't capable of falling in love with anybody; he hasn't got it in him, he is so frightfully matter-of-fact." Felicia looked dubious.

"Then don't you think he will ever marry ?" "Oh, yes, he'll marry fast enough--a sweet, domestic woman, who plays the piano and does crochet-work; and he will talk to her about the price of iron and the integrity of the empire, and will think that he is making love, and she will think so too.