Julian came up and faced
her.
"Harriet," he said, with perfect gentleness, though his lips
trembled, "why do you always prefer to think the worst of people? I
always look for the good rather than the evil in people I meet."
"We're different in a good many things, you see," said Harriet, with
a sneer. Her countenance had darkened. Julian had learnt the
significance of her looks and tones only too well. Under the
circumstances it would have been better to keep silence, but
something compelled him to speak.
"I am sure of this," he said. "If you will only meet her in her own
spirit, you will find her a valuable friend--just such a friend as
you need. But of course if you begin with all manner of prejudices
and suspicions, it will be very hard for her to make you believe in
her sincerity. Certainly her kindness, her sympathy, her whole
manner, was perfect to-night."
"You seemed to notice her a good deal."
"Naturally I did, being so anxious that you should find a friend and
companion."
"And who is she, I should like to know?" said Harriet, with
perfection of subdued acrimony. "How can I tell that she's a proper
person to be a friend to me? I know what her mother was, at all
events.
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