d down into the fire and became silent.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well, there's this business of--Goguelat," said he, still looking at
the coals in the grate.

"What!" I exclaimed, starting in my chair. "What's that you say?"

"This business about Goguelat," he repeated.

"Ronald," said I, "this is not your doing. These are not your own words.
I know where they came from: a coward put them in your mouth."

"St. Ives!" he cried, "why do you make it so hard for me? and where's
the use of insulting other people? The plain English is, that I can't
hear of any proposal of marriage from a man under a charge like that.
You must see it for yourself, man! It's the most absurd thing I ever
heard of! And you go on forcing me to argue with you, too!"

"Because I have had an affair of honour which terminated unhappily,
you--a young soldier, or next-door to it--refuse my offer? Do I
understand you aright?" said I.

"My dear fellow!" he wailed, "of course you can twist my words, if you
like. You _say_ it was an affair of honour. Well, I can't, of course,
tell you that--I can't--I mean, you must see that that's just the point!
Was it? I don't know."

"I have the honour to inform you," said I.

"Well, other people say the reverse, you see!"

"They lie, Ronald, and I will prove it in time."

"The short and the long of it is, that any man who is so unfortunate as
to have such things said about him is not the man to be my
brother-in-law!" he cried.

"Do you know who will be my first witness at the court? Arthur
Chevenix!" said I.

"I don't care!" he cried, rising from his chair and beginning to pace
outrageously about the room. "What do you mean, St. Ives? What is this
about? It's like a dream, I declare! You made an offer, and I have
refused it. I don't like it, I don't want it; and whatever I did, or
didn't, wouldn't matter--my aunt wouldn't hear of it anyway! Can't you
take your answer, man?"

"You must remember, Ronald, that we are playing with edged tools," said
I. "An offer of marriage is a delicate subject to handle. You have
refused, and you have justified your refusal by several statements:
first, that I was an impostor; second, that our countries were at war;
and third--No, I will speak," said I; "you can answer when I have
done,--and third, that I had dishonourably killed--or was said to have
done so--the man Goguelat. Now, my dear fellow, these are very awkward
grounds to be taking. From any one else's lips I need