Phyllis seated herself once again.

“But a question is to be asked in Parliament about him?” she suggested.

“And can you, the daughter of a member of that Parliament, honestly tell me that you fancy that any human being minds how many questions are asked about him in the Questionable House?”

“But the least breath of suspicion—­dynamite—­slave-dealing—­massacres—­Armenia.  Oh, the article is certain to be copied into dozens of other papers—­the public do so like to get hold of some scandal against a man who has done something great.”

“They do indeed.  Would you suggest organizing a committee of ladies for the protection of Mr. Courtland?”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Ella.  I though that you were his friend, and that you would be as indignant as I was at that disgraceful attack upon his reputation.”

“I don’t think that it will place his reputation in jeopardy, unless with the readers of that paper, and they are not worth taking into account, are they?”

“Papa says the thing has a large circulation among a certain class.  I want him to ridicule the question which is threatened in that article; he knows how to do that kind of thing very well.”

“Is it come to that, my Phyllis?  Were you really so greatly interested in the one conversation you had with him as to constitute yourself his champion?”

Above all things Phyllis was truthful.  She had never had an experience of love—­that passion which can change the most truthful of womankind into the least scrupulous.  There was no pause between Ella’s question and Phyllis’ answer.

“Certainly the one conversation that I had with him interested me—­I told you so returning in the carriage.  Has he never succeeded in interesting you, Ella?  He told me that you were his friend—­I believe he said his dearest friend.”

“And I believe that he told you the truth,” said Ella.  “But, being his best friend and a woman, I refrain from constituting myself his champion.  You see we live in Philistia, my Phyllis, and the champions that Philistia sends forth usually come to grief; there was the case of one Goliath of Gath, for example.  I have no desire to have stones slung at me by the chosen people.”

“I’m not quite sure that I understand you,” said Phyllis, with a very pretty pucker on her forehead.  “You don’t mean to say that a woman should not do her best for a man whom she knows to be maligned?  You don’t suggest that she should stand silently to one side while people are saying what’s false about him?”

“I say that it’s unwise in Philistia; though I admit that it is of the greatest advantage to the man, for people at once cease maligning him and take to maligning her.”

“If she is any sort of a woman she will not mind that, however unjust it may be.  In this case, however, I don’t think there is much risk:  even the most unscrupulous person could hardly say that—­that——­”