“‘And why not?’ I asked very naturally.

“‘Why, the fact is,’ said Walter, ’that Reuben is a confounded fool.  He has been chattering to the men at the club and seems to have given them the impression that a young lady of means and position has been setting her cap at him very hard, but that he, being a high-souled philosopher above the temptations that beset ordinary mortals, is superior both to her blandishments and her pecuniary attractions.  I give you the hint for your own guidance,’ he continued, ’and I expect this to go no farther.  You mustn’t be annoyed with Reuben.  The best of young men will often behave like prigs and donkeys, and I have no doubt the fellows have grossly exaggerated what he said; but I thought it right to put you on your guard.’

“Now this report, as you may suppose, made me excessively angry, and I wanted to have it out with Reuben then and there.  But Walter refused to sanction this—­’there was no use in making a scene’ he said—­and he insisted that the caution was given to me in strict confidence; so what was I to do?  I tried to ignore it and treat Reuben as I always had done, but this I found impossible; my womanly pride was much too deeply hurt.  And yet I felt it the lowest depth of meanness to harbour such thoughts of him without giving him the opportunity to defend himself.  And although it was most unlike Reuben in some respects, it was very like him in others; for he has always expressed the utmost contempt for men who marry for a livelihood.  So I have remained on the horns of a dilemma and am there still.  What do you think I ought to have done?”

I rubbed my chin in some embarrassment at this question.  Needless to say, I was most disagreeably impressed by Walter Hornby’s conduct, and not a little disposed to blame my fair companion for giving an ear to his secret disparagement of his cousin; but I was obviously not in a position to pronounce, offhand, upon the merits of the case.

“The position appears to be this,” I said, after a pause, “either Reuben has spoken most unworthily and untruthfully of you, or Walter has lied deliberately about him.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “that is the position; but which of the two alternatives appears to you the more probable?”

“That is very difficult to say,” I answered.  “There is a certain kind of cad who is much given to boastful rhodomontade concerning his conquests.  We all know him and can generally spot him at first sight, but I must say that Reuben Hornby did not strike me as that kind of man at all.  Then it is clear that the proper course for Walter to have adopted, if he had really heard such rumours, was to have had the matter out with Reuben, instead of coming secretly to you with whispered reports.  That is my feeling, Miss Gibson, but, of course, I may be quite wrong.  I gather that our two young friends are not inseparable companions?”

“Oh, they are very good friends, but you see, their interests and views of life are quite different.  Reuben, although an excellent worker in business hours, is a student, or perhaps rather what one would call a scholar, whereas Walter is more a practical man of affairs—­decidedly long-headed and shrewd.  He is undoubtedly very clever, as Mrs. Hornby said.”