“What?” inquired Mr. Tupman, who had not precisely made up his mind to say anything at all.

“You were going to say that Isabel stoops⁠—I know you were⁠—you men are such observers. Well, so she does; it can’t be denied; and, certainly, if there is one thing more than another that makes a girl look ugly it is stooping. I often tell her that when she gets a little older she’ll be quite frightful. Well, you are a quiz!”

Mr. Tupman had no objection to earning the reputation at so cheap a rate: so he looked very knowing, and smiled mysteriously.

“What a sarcastic smile,” said the admiring Rachael; “I declare I’m quite afraid of you.”

“Afraid of me!”