“Yes, thank the Lord for one mercy, the letter didn’t go. If it had, she’d accepted double quick, fraud as it was. Yes, a fraud. But I’d have straightened it. Yes, I would. I’d have told her Rex did not care for her only as I egged him on. Yes, sir, thinks he saw her face in the glass. Saw mine just as much. By the great horn spoon, what a fool! I feel like fighting.” Rena did not understand what he meant by the well and the face and the letter, but she felt that in a way he was unjust to her cousin, who was not there to defend herself, and remembering his admiration for Irene was surprised that the most of his wrath should fall upon her. “See here,” she said at last, “listen to me. Irene was no more to blame than I. From the very first you fell down and worshiped her, without asking a question as to who was who. She didn’t tell you she was the one in the will. You assumed it. We are cousins, both Burdicks, both Irenes, only I am called Rena; and wouldn’t it have looked well in me to say to Mr. Travers, when I met him, or to you either, ‘I’m the girl!’ He never mentioned the will to Irene, as it was his place to do, if he thought she was the one—neither did you. If you had, we were prepared to tell the truth. There are two sides to the affair, mine the wicked, foolish one, and yours the credulous one for taking things for granted. And why do you assume that Mr. Travers could not fall in love with Irene from Claremont, as if it were not a respectable place. She is a beautiful woman and I don’t think it nice in you to be so hard upon her and she not here to speak for herself. I tell you I am the one to blame. Fight me, if you must fight somebody.” Rena was splendid in her defense of Irene. The tears on her flushed cheeks were dried and only one or two stood in her eyes, making them very bright as they flashed defiance upon the old Scotchman, whose anger was not proof against this little girl standing up so bravely for her cousin. “Great guns!” he said, beginning to cool down. “There’s a heap of sense in what you say, and I believe you’ve as level a head as Irene. I did admire her and supposed she was the one. We all did. And because Rex held back I tried to push him on, and when you told me she wasn’t the one, I was mad as a March hare. No man likes to be fooled as Rex and I have been, and I believe my soul I take it harder than he does. I don’t think he was hit bad. Now, if you had been you—” “No, no, no,” Rena cried vehemently, guessing what he meant. “There was Tom—always Tom—before I saw Mr. Travers. It could never have been.” “Then Sandy made a confounded mistake and muddle. The will was a queer one any way, and now how is the money to go? I’d like to know,” Colin asked.