He was not sure that he liked Miss Floyd, or her conversation.
She was so much mistress of herself and of the company, that his masculine vanity occasionally rebelled.

A little flirt!--that gave herself airs.

It startled his English mind that at twenty--for she could be no more--a girl should so take the floor, and hold the stage.
Sometimes he turned his back upon her--almost; and Cecilia Boyson held him.

But, if there was too much of the "eternal womanly" in Miss Floyd, there was not enough in Cecilia Boyson.

He began to discover also that she was too clever for him, and was in fact talking down to him.