"If you want to know my idea of a Man," said Mrs. Grimmage, "the Dean is my idea to the very life. The moment I clapped eyes on him, I said to myself, 'That is a Man'—and meant it. I suppose he's married. He's got a sort of patient, bearing-up look. Perhaps she's a currick's daughter, and a fright. Men are wonderful poor judges of looks. They will pick out girls that you and I wouldn't look at a second time, and go raving cracked after 'em. I know 'em. You can't tell me anything about Men. But I like a man to be manly. Let him be decent, I say, but let him be a Man." She looked wise over this dark utterance.
"A man's way of loving is so different from a woman's," sighed Anna.
"There ain't nothing," said Mrs. Grimmage, "there ain't nothing that makes them so sulky and turns them against you so soon as saying anything like that. And that's a mistake girls always make. They begin the heavenly. It's not a bit of use being heavenly with men. Just you remember that. You must take 'em as they are, or leave 'em."
"I see," said Anna.
"There's many a young woman lost a man's love," observed Mrs. Grimmage, "by coming the heavenly."
"She's better without it," said Anna, "much better."
"The most faithfullest man I ever see," said Mrs. Grimmage, "is your poor dear uncle. But then he's eccentrick—ain't he? And he ain't the sort as many 'ud fancy for a sweetheart. He ain't dash-ey enough. Women do like a bit of Dash. I do myself."