"This is sophistry. You walked about the museum with _both_ these ladies for a long time yesterday." Clifford was startled, and could not conceal it. "Of course," he exclaimed, "if my movements are watched, with a view to my accusation--!" And he broke off significantly. "Your movements are not watched. But if I happen to hear of such things, I must draw my own conclusions." "I give you my assurance that the meeting was purely by chance, and that our conversation was solely of indifferent matters--of art, of Pompeii, and so on." "Perhaps you are not aware," resumed Mrs. Denyer, with a smile that made caustic comment on this apology, "that, when we sit at table, your eyes are directed to Miss Doran with a frequency that no one can help observing." Marsh hesitated; then, throwing his head back, remarked in an unapproachable manner: "Mrs. Denyer, you will not forget that I am an artist." "I don't forget that you profess to be one, Mr. Marsh." This was retort with a vengeance. Clifford reddened slightly, and looked angry. Mrs. Denyer had reached the point to which her remarks were from the first directed, and it was not her intention to spare the young man's susceptibilities. She had long ago gauged him, and not inaccurately on the whole; it seemed to her that he was of the men who can be "managed." "I fail to understand you," said Marsh, with dignity. "My dear Clifford, let me speak to you as one who has your well-being much at heart. I have no wish to hurt your feelings, but I have been upset by this silly affair, and it makes me speak a little sharply. Now, I see well enough what you have been about; it is an old device of young gentlemen who wish to revenge themselves just a little for what they think a slight. Of course you have never given a thought to Miss Doran, who, as you say, would never dream of carrying on a flirtation, for she knows how things are between you and Madeline, and she is a young lady of very proper behaviour. In no case, as you of course understand, could she be so indelicate as anything of this kind would imply. No; but you are vexed with Madeline about some silly little difference, and you play with her feelings. There has been enough of it; I must interfere. And now let us talk a little about your position. Madeline has, of course, told me everything. Listen to me, my dear Clifford; you must at once accept Mr. Hibbert's kindly meant proposal--you must indeed." Marsh had reflected anxiously during this speech. He let a moment of silence pass; then said gravely: "I cannot consent to do anything of the kind, Mrs. Denyer."