sed me, likewise,
not to cackle about the matter any more than I could help, lest trouble
should arise with regard to my director's fees. His way of putting
things is occasionally blunt.

It was at the Everetts', later on, that I met Mrs. Camelford, one of the
handsomest women I have ever set eyes upon. It was foolish of me, but my
memory for names is weak. I forgot that Mr. and Mrs. Camelford were the
other two concerned, and mentioned the story as a curious tale I had
read years ago in an old Miscellany. I had reckoned on it to lead me
into a discussion with her on platonic friendship. She jumped up from
her chair and gave me a look. I remembered then, and could have bitten
out my tongue. It took me a long while to make my peace, but she came
round in the end, consenting to attribute my blunder to mere stupidity.
She was quite convinced herself, she told me, that the thing was pure
imagination. It was only when in company with the others that any doubt
as to this crossed her mind. Her own idea was that, if everybody
would agree never to mention the matter again, it would end in
their forgetting it. She supposed it was her husband who had been my
informant: he was just that sort of ass. She did not say it unkindly.
She said when she was first married, ten years ago, few people had a
more irritating effect upon her than had Camelford; but that since she
had seen more of other men she had come to respect him. I like to hear a
woman speak well of her husband. It is a departure which, in my opinion,
should be more encouraged than it is. I assured her Camelford was not
the culprit; and on the understanding that I might come to see her--not
too often--on her Thursdays, I agreed with her that the best thing I
could do would be to dismiss the subject from my mind and occupy myself
instead with questions that concerned myself.

I had never talked much with Camelford before that time, though I had
often seen him at the Club. He is a strange man, of whom many stories
are told. He writes journalism for a living, and poetry, which he
publishes at his own expense, apparently for recreation. It occurred to
me that his theory would at all events be interesting; but at first he
would not talk at all, pretending to ignore the whole affair, as idle
nonsense. I had almost despaired of drawing him out, when one evening,
of his own accord, he asked me if I thought Mrs. Armitage, with whom
he knew I was on terms of friendship, still attache