“This is false, sir; every word of it false!” said Cashel, purple with passion; “nor will I permit any man to drag her name before this world of slanderers in connection with such a tale. Great Heaven! what hypocrisy it is to have a horror for the assassin and the cut-throat, and yet give shelter, in your society, to those who stab character and poison reputation! I tell you, sir, that among those buccaneers you have so often sneered at, you'd not meet one base enough for this.” “I think you are too severe upon this kind of transgression, Cashel,” said Linton, calmly. “It is as often prompted by mere idleness as malice. The great mass of people in this life have nothing to do, and they go wrong just for occupation. There may have been--there generally is--a little grain of truth amid all the chaff of fiction; there may, therefore, be a young lady whose name was--” “I forbid you to speak it. I knew her, and, girl as she was, she was not one to suffer insult in her presence, nor shall it be offered to her in her absence.” “My dear fellow, your generous warmth should not be unjust, or else you will find few friends willing to incur your anger in the hope of doing you service. I never believed a word of this story. Marriage--adventure--even the young lady's identity, I deemed all fictions together.” Cashel muttered something he meant to be apologetic for his rudeness, and Linton was not slow in accepting even so unwilling a reparation. “Of course I think no more of it,” cried he, with affected cordiality. “I was going to tell you how Lady Kilgoff received the tidings--exactly the very opposite to what her kind correspondent had intended. It actually seemed to encourage her in her passion, as though there was a similarity in your cases. Besides, she felt, perhaps, that she was not damaging your future career, as it might be asserted she had done, were you unmarried. These are mere guesses on my part. I own to you, I have little skill in reading the Machiavellism of a female heart; the only key to its mystery I know of is, 'always suspect what is least likely.'” “And I am to sit down patiently under all this calumny!” said Cashel, as he walked the room with hasty steps. “I am perhaps to receive at my table those whose amusement it is so to sport with my character and my fame!” “It is a very naughty world, no doubt of it,” said Linton, lighting a fresh cigar; “and the worst of it is, it tempts one always to be as roguish as one's neighbors for self-preservation.” “You say I am not at liberty to speak of this letter to Lady Kilgoff?” “Of course not; I am myself a defaulter in having told the matter to you.”