“Josh,” said Grant, “I wish you wouldn’t say that sort of thing.  It’s not considered proper in this part of the country for a gentleman to speak out that way about women.”

“What’s there to be ashamed of in being in love?  Besides, aren’t you my best friend, the one I confide everything to?”

“You confide everything to everybody.”

Craig looked amused.  “There are only two that can keep a secret,” said he, “nobody and everybody.  I trust either the one or the other, and neither has ever betrayed me.”

“To go back to the original subject:  I’d prefer you didn’t talk to me in that way about that particular young lady.”

“Why? ...  Because you’re in love with her, yourself?”

Grant silently stared at the floor.

“Poor old chap,” said Craig sympathetically.

Arkwright winced, started to protest, decided it was just as well to let Craig think what he pleased at that juncture.

“Poor old chap!” repeated Josh.  “Well, you needn’t despair.  It’s true she isn’t in love with you and is in love with me.  But if I keep away from her and discourage her it’ll soon die out.  Women of that sort of bringing up aren’t capable of any enduring emotion—­ unless they have outside aid in keeping it alive.”

“No, thank you,” said Arkwright bitterly.  “I decline to be put in the position of victim of your generosity.  Josh, let me tell you, your notion that she’s in love with you is absurd.  I’d advise you not to go round confiding it to people, in your usual fashion.  You’ll make yourself a laughing stock.”

“I’ve told no one but you,” protested Craig.

“Have you seen any one else since you got the idea?”

“No, I haven’t,” he admitted with a laugh.  “Now that you’ve told me the state of your heart I’ll not speak of her feeling for me.  I give you my word of honor on that.  I understand how a chap like you, full of false pride, would be irritated at having people know he’d married a woman who was once in love with some one else.  For of course you’ll marry her.”

“I’m not sure of that.  I haven’t your sublime self-confidence, you know.”

“Oh, I’ll arrange it,” replied Craig, full of enthusiasm.  “In fact, I had already begun, this very afternoon, when she let me see that she loved me and, so, brought me up standing.”

“Damn it, man, don’t say that!” cried Grant, all afire.  “I tell you it’s crazy, conceited nonsense.”

“All right, all right, old chap,” soothed Josh.

And it frenzied Arkwright to see that he said this merely to spare the feelings of an unrequited lover, not at all because he had begun to doubt Margaret’s love.  “Come down to dinner and let’s talk no more about it,” said Grant, with a great effort restraining himself.  “I tell you, Josh, you make it mighty hard sometimes for me to remember what I owe you.”

Craig wheeled on him with eyes that flashed and pierced.  “My young friend,” said he, “you owe me nothing.  And let me say to you, once for all, you are free to break with me at any instant—­you or any other man.  Whenever I find I’m beginning to look on a man as necessary to me I drop him—­break with him.  I am necessary to my friends, not they to me.  I like you, but be careful how you get impertinent with me.”