"What do you mean?" exclaimed Sydney in vague alarm. "Can't you understand? It's a horrid thing to say," said Gerald impatiently. "Are you quite sure he is in earnest? May he not be only what is called amusing himself--flirting, or trifling, or any of those detestable expressions?" Sydney grew crimson. "No, Gerald," she said, with immense indignation in her voice. "I certainly never for an instant supposed him capable of such baseness. I am surprised at you, Gerald. It is well you never hinted at anything of this kind before--or perhaps it is a pity you did not. I am exceedingly sorry I ever discussed the matter with you at all." "You are unjust and unreasonable, Sydney, and unkind too," exclaimed Gerald, with a good deal of wounded feeling. "Don't you see how painful it is to me to suggest such a thing to _you_, who know what you do about me? But I am in earnest, Sydney. It is well you, at least, should be prepared for such a possibility. You cannot suppose that I have any selfish motive in suggesting it. You don't think that, _selfishly_ speaking, I should wish it to turn out so? If Captain Chancellor disappeared to-day, and was never heard of again, that would do _me_ no good. How could it?" "I didn't think you had any selfish motive," answered Sydney, gently. "I only thought that--that--naturally perhaps you saw him worse than he is." "Frank has said the same," replied Mr Thurston, in a but half mollified tone. "Frank!" repeated Sydney, "Frank! Oh, no, Gerald! He likes Captain Chancellor; he thinks well of him."