"
"Very true," said I, with a grave nod.
"The false can't stand against the real," pursued Miss Liston;
and then she fell into meditative silence. I stole a glance at
her face; she was smiling. Was it in the pleasure of literary
creation--an artistic ecstasy? I should have liked to answer
yes, but I doubted it very much. Without pretending to Miss
Liston's powers, I have the little subtlety that is needful to
show me that more than one kind of smile may be seen on the human
face, and that there is one very different from others; and,
finally, that that one is not evoked, as a rule, merely by the
evolution of the troublesome encumbrance in pretty writing
vulgarly called a "plot."
"If," pursued Miss Liston, "someone comes who can appreciate him
and draw out what is best in him----"
"That's all very well," said I, "but what of the first girl?"
"Oh, she's--she can be made shallow, you know; and I can put in a
man for her. People needn't be much interested in her."
"Yes, you could manage it that way," said I, thinking how
Pamela--I took the liberty of using her name for the shallow
girl--would like such treatment.
"She will really be valuable mainly as a foil," observed Miss
Liston; and she added generously, "I shall make her nice, you
know, but shallow--not worthy of him."
"And what are you going to make the other girl like?" I asked.
Miss Liston started slightly; also she colored very slightly, and
she answered, looking away from me across the lawn:
"I haven't quite made up my mind yet, Mr.
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