She knew he meant the last two words to be provocative.  She knew it by slight signs of nervousness in his way of standing before her, one foot on the grass and the other on the first step of the portico.  He betrayed himself, too, in an unsuccessful attempt to make his intonation casual, as well as by puffing at his cigar without noticing that it had gone out.  An instant’s reflection decided her to accept his challenge.  As the subject had to be met, the sooner it came up the better.

She looked at him mildly.  “What did she say about him?”

“Only that he was the man who put up the money.”

“Yes; he was.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that this morning?”

“I suppose because there was so much else to say.  We should have come round to it in time.  I did tell you everything but his name.”

“And the circumstances.”

“How do you mean—­the circumstances?”

“I got the impression from you this morning that it was some millionaire Johnny who’d come to your father’s aid by advancing the sum in the ordinary way of business.  I didn’t understand that it was a comparatively poor chap who was cleaning himself out to come to yours.”

In wording his phrase he purposely went beyond the warrant, in order to rouse her to denial, or perhaps to indignation.  But she said only: 

“Did Drusilla say it was to come to my aid?”

“She didn’t say it—­exactly.  I gathered that it was what she thought.”

She astonished him by saying, simply:  “I think so, too.”

“Extraordinary!  Do you mean to say he dropped out of a clear sky?”

“I must answer that by both a yes and a no.  He did drop out of a clear sky just lately; but I’d known him before.”

“Ah!” His tone was that of a cross-examiner dragging the truth from an unwilling witness.  He put his questions rapidly and sharply, as though at a Court-martial.  “So you’d known him before!  Did you know him well?”

“I didn’t think it was well; but apparently he did, because he asked me to marry him.”

Ashley bounded.  “Who?  That—­that cowboy!”

“Yes; if he is a cowboy.”

“And you took money from him?”

Her elbows rested on the arm of her chair; the tip of her chin on the back of her bent fingers.  Without taking her eyes from his she inclined her head slowly in assent.

“That is,” he hastened to say, in some compunction, “your father took it.  We must keep the distinction—­”

“No; I took it.  Papa was all ready to decline it.  He had made up his mind—­”

“Do you mean that the decision to accept it rested with you?”

“Practically.”

“You didn’t—­” He hesitated, stammered, and grew red.  “You didn’t—­” he began again.  “You’ll have to excuse the question....  I simply must know, by Jove!...  You didn’t ask him for it?”

She rose with dignity.  “If you’ll come in I’ll tell you about it.  We can’t talk out here.”