"To tell you the truth, Vin," his companion admitted, "I was thinking that when you came in you announced you had something of importance to say——" "Instead of which I have been talking about Miss Bethune," Vincent said, without taking any offence. "But who began? I thought it was you who introduced the subject—and you seemed interested in her appearance——" "Oh, yes, of course, of course," the young nobleman said, goodnaturedly. "I beg your pardon. And I understand how the subject may be of importance to you——" "Well, yes, it is," said Vincent, calmly. "For I propose to marry Miss Bethune, and at once, if she will consent." Lord Musselburgh looked up quickly, and his face was grave enough now. "You don’t mean that, Vin?" "That is precisely what I do mean," the young man said. "I thought—I had fancied—that certain things had been found out," his friend stammered, and then stopped; for it was a hazardous topic. "Oh, you have been told too?" Vincent said, with a careless disdain. "Well, when I heard those charges brought against Miss Bethune’s grandfather, I did not choose to answer them; but speaking about him to you is another thing; and I may say to you, once for all, that more preposterous trash was never invented. I won’t deny," he continued, with a perfectly simple frankness, "that there are one or two things about Mr. Bethune that I cannot quite explain—that I rather shut my eyes to; and perhaps there are one or two things that one might wish altered—for who is perfect? But the idea that this old man, with his almost obtrusively rugged individuality, his independence, his self-will and pride, should be a scheming impostor and swindler—it is too absurd! To my mind—and I think I know him pretty intimately—he appears to be one of the finest and grandest characters it is possible to imagine; a personality you could never forget, once you had learned to know him even a little; and that this man, of all men, should be suspected of being a fawning and wheedling writer of begging-letters—it is too laughable! I admit that he has little or no money—if that is a crime. They live in straitened circumstances, no doubt. And of course there are many unpleasant things connected with poverty that one would rather hide from the eyes of a young lady, and that can’t well be hidden: though I don’t know that her nature, if she has a fine and noble nature, need suffer from that. For example, it isn’t nice for her to see her grandfather served with a writ; but many excellent people have been served with writs; it doesn’t follow that Mr. Bethune must be a thief because he has no money—or perhaps because he has been negligent about some debt or other. But even supposing that he was a questionable person—even supposing that he was in the habit of using doubtful means to supplement his precarious income; isn’t that all the greater reason why such a girl should be taken away from such circumstances?"