I must have stared grotesquely now. “That--that--the cake--and that sort of thing--at his expense? “My dear sir, I shall be glad if you can find me anything that they have ever done at their own expense!” I doubt if she would ever have permitted her speech such freedom had not the Rieppes been “from Georgia”; I am sure that it was anger--family anger, race anger--which had broken forth; and I think that her silent, severe sister scarcely approved of such breaking forth to me, a stranger. But indignation had worn her reticence thin, and I had happened to press upon the weak place. After my burst of exclamation I came back to it. “So you think Miss Rieppe will get out of it?” “It is my nephew who will ‘get out of it,’ as you express it.” I totally misunderstood her. “Oh!” I protested stupidly. “He doesn’t look like that. And it takes all meaning from the cake.” “Do not say cake to me again!” said the lady, smiling at last. “And--will you allow me to tell you that I do not need to have my nephew, John Mayrant, explained to me by any one? I merely meant to say that he, and not she, is the person who will make the lucky escape. Of course, he is honorable--a great deal too much so for his own good. It is a misfortune, nowadays, to be born a gentleman in America. But, as I told you, I am not solicitous. What she is counting on--because she thinks she understands true Kings Port honor, and does not in the least--is his renouncing her on account of the phosphates--the bad news, I mean. They could live on what he has--not at all in her way, though--and besides, after once offering his genuine, ardent, foolish love--for it was genuine enough at the time--John would never--” She stopped; but I took her up. “Did I understand you to say that his love was genuine at the lime?” “Oh, he thinks it is now--insists it is now! That is just precisely what would make him--do you not see?--stick to his colors all the closer.” “Goodness!” I murmured. “What a predicament!” But my hostess nodded easily. “Oh, no. You will see. They will all see.” I rose to take my leave; my visit, indeed, had been, for very interest, prolonged beyond the limits of formality--my hostess had attended quite thoroughly to my being entertained. And at this point the other, the more severe and elderly lady, made her contribution to my entertainment. She had kept silence, I now felt sure, because gossip was neither her habit nor to her liking. Possibly she may have also felt that her displeasure had been too manifest; at any rate, she spoke out of her silence in cold, yet rich, symmetrical tones. “This, I understand, is your first visit to Kings Port?” I told her that it was. She laid down her exquisite embroidery. “It has been thought a place worth seeing. There is no town of such historic interest at the North.” Standing by my chair, I assured her that I did not think there could be.