Eliza seemed to have made the same resolution on her part.

We had not met since the evening of the tea-party; but there was no visible emotion either of pleasure or pain, no attempt at pathos, no display of injured pride: she was cool in temper, civil in demeanour.

There was even an ease and cheerfulness about her air and manner that I made no pretension to; but there was a depth of malice in her too expressive eye that plainly told me I was not forgiven; for, though she no longer hoped to win me to herself, she still hated her rival, and evidently delighted to wreak her spite on me.

On the other hand, Miss Wilson was as affable and courteous as heart could wish, and though I was in no very conversable humour myself, the two ladies between them managed to keep up a pretty continuous fire of small talk.

But Eliza took advantage of the first convenient pause to ask if I had lately seen Mrs.Graham, in a tone of merely casual inquiry, but with a sidelong glance--intended to be playfully mischievous--really, brimful and running over with malice.
'Not lately,' I replied, in a careless tone, but sternly repelling her odious glances with my eyes; for I was vexed to feel the colour mounting to my forehead, despite my strenuous efforts to appear unmoved.
'What! are you beginning to tire already?
I thought so noble a creature would have power to attach you for a year at least!' 'I would rather not speak of her now.' 'Ah! then you are convinced, at last, of your mistake--you have at length discovered that your divinity is not quite the immaculate--' 'I desired you not to speak of her, Miss Eliza.' 'Oh, I beg your pardon! I perceive Cupid's arrows have been too sharp for you: the wounds, being more than skin-deep, are not yet healed, and bleed afresh at every mention of the loved one's name.' 'Say, rather,' interposed Miss Wilson, 'that Mr.Markham feels that name is unworthy to be mentioned in the presence of right-minded females.