rers I mean. Do be a
little distrustful--of one at least; I don't like him and I wish you
didn't--and I can't very well tell you why, only that he does not seem
to me to be manly or even honest."
She colored a little, but she also smiled faintly, for she still did
not understand him.
"I suppose I must know the man you mean, Mr. Heron; for I think he is
the only man I ever heard you say anything against, and I have not
forgotten. But what can have made you think that I needed any lecture
about him? I don't suppose he ever thought about me in that way in his
life, or would marry one of my birth and my bringing up even if I asked
him. And in any case, Mr. Heron, I would not marry him even if he asked
me. But what a shame it seems to arrange in advance for the refusing of
a man who never showed the faintest intention of making an offer."
At first Heron did not quite understand her. Then he suddenly caught
her meaning.
"Oh, that fellow? I didn't mean him. I never could have supposed that
you were likely to be taken in by him."
"To do him justice, Mr. Heron, he never seems to have any thought of
taking any one in. Such as he is he always shows himself, I think."
"Oh, I don't care about him----"
"Nor I, Mr. Heron, I assure you. But whom then do you care about--in
that sense?"
"I distrust a man who takes a woman's money in a reckless and selfish
way," Heron said impetuously. "That is a man I would not trust. Don't
trust him, Miss Grey; believe me, he is a cad--I mean a selfish and
deceitful fellow. I can't bear the thought of a girl like you being
sacrificed--or sacrificing yourself as you might do perhaps--and I tell
you that he is just the sort of man----"
"Are you speaking of Mr. Blanchet now, Mr. Heron?" Her tone was cold
and clear. She was evidently hurt, but determined now to have the whole
question out.
"Yes, I am speaking of Blanchet, of course--of whom else could I be
speaking in such a way?"
"Mr. Blanchet is my friend, Mr. Heron; I thought he was a friend of
yours as well."
"Well, I thought he was a manly, honest sort of fellow--I don't think
so now," Victor went on impetuously, warming himself as he went into
increasing strength of conviction. "I know you will hate me for telling
you this, but I can't help that. I am as much interested in your
happiness as if--as if you were my sister--and if you were my sister, I
would just do the same."
It would indeed be idle to attempt to describe t
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