“Well, you talk a great deal about America and about Americans, and talk as if you were proud of the country, and of its ways, and of its people.” “Why, I am,” answered the young man. “Very well, then; according to your creed one person is just as good as another.” “Oh, I don’t say that, I don’t hold that for a moment. I don’t think I am as good as you, for instance.” “But what I mean is this, that one’s occupation does not necessarily give one a lower station than another. If that is not your belief then you are not a true American, that is all.” “Well, yes, that is my belief. I will admit I believe all that. What of it?” “What of it? There is this of it. You are the junior partner of a large establishment in New York?” “Nothing criminal in that, is there?” “Oh, I don’t put it as an accusation, I am merely stating the fact. You admit the fact, of course?” “Yes. The fact is admitted, and marked _Exhibit A,_ and placed in evidence. Now, what next?” “In the same establishment there was a young woman who sold ribbons to all comers?” “Yes, I admit that also, and the young lady’s name was Miss Katherine Earle.” “Oh, you knew it, then?” “Why, certainly I did.” “You knew it before you proposed to me.” “Oh, I seem to have known that fact for years and years.” “She told it to you.” “She? What she?” “You know very well who I mean, George. She told it to you, didn’t she?” “Why, don’t you think I remembered you—remembered seeing you there?” “I know very well you did not. You may have seen me there, but you did not remember me. The moment I spoke to you on the deck that day in the broken chair, I saw at once you did not remember me, and there is very little use of your trying to pretend you thought of it afterwards. She told it to you, didn’t she?” “Now, look here, Katherine, it isn’t I who am making a confession, it is you. It is not customary for a penitent to cross-examine the father confessor in that style.” “It does not make any difference whether you confess or not, George; I shall always know she told you that. After all, I wish she had left it for me to tell. I believe I dislike that woman very much.” “Shake hands, Kate, over that. So do I. Now, my dear, tell me what she told _you_.” “Then she _did_ tell you that, did she?” “Why, if you are so sure of it without my admitting it, why do you ask again?” “I suppose because I wanted to make doubly sure.” “Well, then, assurance is doubly sure. I admit she did.” “And you listened to her, George?” said Katherine, reproachfully. “Listened? Why, of course I did. I couldn’t help myself. She said it before I knew what she was going to say. She didn’t give me the chance that your man had in that story you were speaking of. I said something that irritated her and she out with it at once as if it had been a crime on your part. I did not look on it in that light, and don’t now. Anyhow, you are not going back to the ribbon counter.”