“What do people say?” asked Laura calmly.

“Oh, they say a good many things.  You are offended, though, to have me speak of it?”

“Not in the least.  You are my true friend.  I feel that I can trust you.  You wouldn’t deceive me, Harry?” throwing into her eyes a look of trust and tenderness that melted away all his petulance and distrust.  “What do they say?”

“Some say that you’ve lost your head about him; others that you don’t care any more for him than you do for a dozen others, but that he is completely fascinated with you and about to desert his wife; and others say it is nonsense to suppose you would entangle yourself with a married man, and that your intimacy only arises from the matter of the cotton, claims, for which he wants your influence with Dilworthy.  But you know everybody is talked about more or less in Washington.  I shouldn’t care; but I wish you wouldn’t have so much to do with Selby, Laura,” continued Harry, fancying that he was now upon such terms that his, advice, would be heeded.

“And you believed these slanders?”

“I don’t believe anything against you, Laura, but Col.  Selby does not mean you any good.  I know you wouldn’t be seen with him if you knew his reputation.”

“Do you know him?” Laura asked, as indifferently as she could.

“Only a little.  I was at his lodgings’ in Georgetown a day or two ago, with Col.  Sellers.  Sellers wanted to talk with him about some patent remedy he has, Eye Water, or something of that sort, which he wants to introduce into Europe.  Selby is going abroad very soon.”

Laura started; in spite of her self-control.

“And his wife!—­Does he take his family?  Did you see his wife?”

“Yes.  A dark little woman, rather worn—­must have been pretty once though.  Has three or four children, one of them a baby.  They’ll all go of course.  She said she should be glad enough to get away from Washington.  You know Selby has got his claim allowed, and they say he has had a run, of luck lately at Morrissey’s.”

Laura heard all this in a kind of stupor, looking straight at Harry, without seeing him.  Is it possible, she was thinking, that this base wretch, after, all his promises, will take his wife and children and leave me?  Is it possible the town is saying all these things about me?  And a look of bitterness coming into her face—­does the fool think he can escape so?

“You are angry with me, Laura,” said Harry, not comprehending in the least what was going on in her mind.

“Angry?” she said, forcing herself to come back to his presence.  “With you?  Oh no.  I’m angry with the cruel world, which, pursues an independent woman as it never does a man.  I’m grateful to you Harry; I’m grateful to you for telling me of that odious man.”

And she rose from her chair and gave him her pretty hand, which the silly fellow took, and kissed and clung to.  And he said many silly things, before she disengaged herself gently, and left him, saying it was time to dress, for dinner.