"Intelligent eyes--very intelligent eyes--I noticed that also," said Mr. Brown.
"Oh no, heaven forbid--I did not mean anything of the kind," said Mr. Chance. "Intelligence is a masculine quality which I do not love to see in a woman: it is suitable for us, like a rough skin and--moustachios," with a glance at Captain Horton, and touching his own clean-shaven upper lip. "The more delicate female organism has something finer and higher than intelligence, which however serves the same purpose--and other purposes besides."
"I don't quite follow you," said the curate, again preparing to take his leave. "I dare say it's all plain enough to some minds, but--well, Mr. Chance, you'll forgive me for saying that when you talk that way I don't know whether I'm standing on my head or my heels."
"Naturally, you wouldn't," said Captain Horton, with a mocking smile. "But don't go yet, Brown; have some more whisky-and-water."
"No, thanks, no more. I never exceed two or three glasses, you know. Thank you, my dear Miss Starbrow, for a most delightful evening." And after shaking hands he made his way to the door, bestowing a kindly touch on each chair in passing, and appearing greatly relieved when he reached the hall.
Captain Horton lit a cigarette and threw himself into an easy-chair. Mr. Chance lit another cigarette; if the other was an idle man, he (Chance) was in the Foreign Office, and privileged to sit up as late as he liked.
"On the whole," he said in a meditative way, "I am inclined to think that Brown is a rather clever fellow."
Miss Starbrow laughed: she was still standing. "You two appear to be taking it very quietly," she said. "It is one o'clock--why will you compel me to be rude?"
Then they started up, put on their coats, exchanged a few words at the door with their hostess, and walked down the street together. Presently a hansom came rattling along the quiet street.
"Keb, sir?" came the inevitable question, in a tone sharp as a whip-crack, as the driver pulled up near the kerb.
"Yes, two cabs," said Captain Horton. "I'll toss you for the first, Chance"; and pulling out a florin he sent it spinning up and deftly caught it as it fell. "Heads or tails?"
"Oh, take it yourself, and I'll find another."