‘You speak as if you did not think much of it, Mr. Langstroth; but, surely, that sort of thing is not for gentlemen.’ ‘My dear Miss Askam, you have got quite a wrong impression, I assure you. You must know that some very fine gentlemen have to do with such things. The only thing is, it is such a frightfully expensive hobby, and——’ ‘It’s a low kind of amusement, I think,’ she began. ‘Not at all—at least, not of necessity. You must excuse me for contradicting you; but——’ ‘Well, if he keeps this place to get money, why not turn horse-dealer at once?’ said Eleanor, resentfully. Michael felt that extreme innocence can, and does ask more awkward questions, in perfect good faith, than the most hardened wickedness could possibly devise. If he had spoken the truth aloud, he would have been obliged to say that the fact of being a horse-dealer by profession could scarcely be considered a reproach to a man, whatever ignorant young ladies might think on the subject; but that in Otho Askam’s neck-or-nothing way of carrying on what he was pleased to call his ‘business,’ there was matter for reproach, and that, as a matter of fact, a respectable horse-dealer had the pull over the master of Thorsgarth, as regarded character. But he could not say this to Miss Askam, who evidently considered the matter in another light—as a low pursuit, namely,—one, perhaps, of other low pursuits which her brother was in the habit of following. It let a new light into his mind as to her character and her ignorance, and he followed a natural impulse—the impulse to reassure her. ‘You really think quite too much about it,’ he said, lightly. ‘Every true Yorkshire man—and every true border-man, for that matter—has a strain of the jockey in him. And when a man lives in the country, and has his soul in country pursuits it is inevitable that horses should come into the list.’ ‘That horses should come into the list!’ repeated Eleanor, in the same tone of mortification. ‘How many more things come into the list of country pursuits? “Running factories,” that is one—buying shares: he told me that his friend, Mr. Langstroth, kept him from plunging too deep into that.’ She had forgotten who was with her; and as she uttered the next words, a flash of lurid, hideous light seemed to burn the meaning of it all into her brain. ‘Card-parties——’ Her breath failed her for a moment. Michael never forgot the voice with which she suddenly asked him, with desperate, urgent haste, ‘Mr. Langstroth, for God’s sake—is Otho a gambler?’ Michael hesitated for one moment. But he knew he could not shirk the question. So asked, it must be answered truly, however cruel the blow. ‘I’m sorry you have asked me that question,’ said he. ‘But there is only one answer to it. He is a born gambler.’