“Ah, my dear fellow, you are ridiculous!” said Bernard. “That ‘s precisely what I want you to say. You always think me too reasonable.” “Well, I go back to my first assertion. I don’t know Miss Vivian--I mean I don’t know her to have opinions about her. I don’t suppose you wish me to string you off a dozen mere banalites--‘She ‘s a charming girl--evidently a superior person--has a great deal of style.’” “Oh no,” said Gordon; “I know all that. But, at any rate,” he added, “you like her, eh?” “I do more,” said Longueville. “I admire her.” “Is that doing more?” asked Gordon, reflectively. “Well, the greater, whichever it is, includes the less.” “You won’t commit yourself,” said Gordon. “My dear Bernard,” he added, “I thought you knew such an immense deal about women!” Gordon Wright was of so kindly and candid a nature that it is hardly conceivable that this remark should have been framed to make Bernard commit himself by putting him on his mettle. Such a view would imply indeed on Gordon’s part a greater familiarity with the uses of irony than he had ever possessed, as well as a livelier conviction of the irritable nature of his friend’s vanity. In fact, however, it may be confided to the reader that Bernard was pricked in a tender place, though the resentment of vanity was not visible in his answer. “You were quite wrong,” he simply said. “I am as ignorant of women as a monk in his cloister.” “You try to prove too much. You don’t think her sympathetic!” And as regards this last remark, Gordon Wright must be credited with a certain ironical impulse. Bernard stopped impatiently. “I ask you again, what does it matter to you what I think of her?” “It matters in this sense--that she has refused me.” “Refused you? Then it is all over, and nothing matters.” “No, it is n’t over,” said Gordon, with a positive head-shake. “Don’t you see it is n’t over?” Bernard smiled, laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder and patted it a little. “Your attitude might almost pass for that of resignation.” “I ‘m not resigned!” said Gordon Wright. “Of course not. But when were you refused?” Gordon stood a minute with his eyes fixed on the ground. Then, at last looking up, “Three weeks ago--a fortnight before you came. But let us walk along,” he said, “and I will tell you all about it.”