"Oh, well," said the Editor, with some touch of asperity and even of indignation, "I should like to believe the best of an old friend; and certainly George Bethune always seemed to me a loyal Scot—proud of his country—proud of the name he bears, as well he might; but when you find him trying to filch the idea of a book—from a fellow-countryman, too—and making use of the letter of introduction I gave him to Lord Musselburgh to get money——" "But that can all be explained," said Vincent, eagerly—and he even forgot his immediate disappointment in his desire to clear away those imputations from Maisrie’s grandfather. "The money was repaid to Lord Musselburgh as soon as it was found that the American book was coming out; I know it was—I am certain of it; and when the volume did come out, no one was so anxious to welcome it, and give it a helping hand, as Mr. Bethune himself. He wrote the review in the _Edinburgh Chronicle_——" "Oh, did he?" said the Editor, with some slight alteration in his tone. "I am glad of that. I could see it was written by some one with ample knowledge: in fact, I quoted the article in the _Scotsman_, it seemed to me so well done. Yes, I am glad of that," Mr. Anstruther repeated. "And then," continued Vincent, "the old man may easily have persuaded himself that, being familiar with the subject, he was entitled to publish a volume on the other side of the water. But I know this, that what he desired above all was that honour should be done to those Scotchmen who had written about their affection for their native country while living in other lands, and that the people at home should know those widely-scattered poets; and when he found that this work had already been undertaken, and was actually coming out, there was no jealousy in his mind—not the slightest—he was only anxious that the book should be known everywhere, but especially in Scotland." "I can assure you I am very glad to hear it," said Mr. Anstruther, who was clearly much mollified by this vague but earnest vindication. "And I may say that when some one came here making inquiries about George Bethune, I did not put matters in their worst light——" "Oh, some one has been here making inquiries?" said Vincent, quickly. "About a month ago, or more." "Who was it?" "I forget the name," the Editor replied. "In fact, I was rather vexed at the time about my friend Ross’s book—and Mr. Bethune getting money from Lord Musselburgh; and I did not say very much. I am glad there is some explanation; one likes to think the best of a brother Scot. But you—you are not a Scot?" he demanded with a swift glance of inquiry. "No, I am not," said Vincent, "but I am very much interested in Mr. Bethune and his granddaughter; and as they quite suddenly disappeared from London, I thought it very likely they had returned to the United States; and also, if they had come to New York, I imagined you would be sure to know."