‘Of course,’ continued Arabella, ’I hear what people say about the niece.  One cannot help what one hears, you know, Mr Gibson; but I don’t believe that, I can assure you.’  As she said this, she looked into his face, as though waiting for an answer; but Mr Gibson had no answer ready.  Then Arabella told herself that if anything was to be done it must be done at once.  What use was there in beating round the bush, when the only chance of getting the game was to be had by dashing at once into the thicket.  ‘I own I should be glad,’ she said, turning her eyes away from him, ’if I could hear from your own mouth that it is not true.’

Mr Gibson’s position was one not to be envied.  Were he willing to tell the very secrets of his soul to Miss French with the utmost candour, he could not answer her question either one way or the other, and he was not willing to tell her any of his secrets.  It was certainly the fact, too, that there had been tender passages between him and Arabella.  Now, when there have been such passages, and the gentleman is cross-examined by the lady, as Mr Gibson was being cross-examined at the present moment, the gentleman usually teaches himself to think that a little falsehood is permissible.  A gentleman can hardly tell a lady that he has become tired of her, and has changed his mind.  He feels the matter, perhaps, more keenly even than she does; and though, at all other times he may be a very Paladin in the cause of truth, in such strait as this he does allow himself some latitude.

‘You are only joking, of course,’ he said.

’Indeed, I am not joking.  I can assure you, Mr Gibson, that the welfare of the friends whom I really love can never be a matter of joke to me.  Mrs Crumbie says that you positively are engaged to marry Dorothy Stanbury.’

‘What does Mrs Crumbie know about it?’

‘I dare say nothing; It is not so is it?’

‘Certainly not.’

‘And there is nothing in it is there?’

‘I wonder why people make these reports,’ said Mr Gibson, prevaricating.

‘It is a fabrication from beginning to end, then?’ said Arabella, pressing the matter quite home.  At this time she was very close to him, and though her words were severe, the glance from her eyes was soft.  And the scent from her hair was not objectionable to him as it would have been to Miss Stanbury.  And the mode of her head-dress was not displeasing to him.  And the folds of her dress, as they fell across his knee, were welcome to his feelings.  He knew that he was as one under temptation, but he was not strong enough to bid the tempter avaunt.  ‘Say that it is so, Mr Gibson!’

‘Of course, it is not so,’ said Mr Gibson lying.