“But I didn't mention him to Miss Hinsdale. In fact, I didn't mention _anything_ to Miss Hinsdale. What have I done? The young man is making his living by his work--and my living, too, for that matter. It only seems to me that his tariff editorials are rather humorous.” She laughed suddenly--ringingly. “Of course they are! How should I know? Immensely humorous! And the good creature knows nothing beyond smuggling and the custom-house and chalk marks? Why, even _I_--ha, ha, ha!--even _I_--should have known better than that. What a little fool your enterprising idiot must be!--with his work-baskets and currant jelly and his trying to make the 'Herald' a daily!--It will be a ludicrous failure, of course. No doubt he thought he was being quite wise, and was pleased over his tariff editorials--his funny, funny editorials--his best--to please you! Ha, ha, ha! How immensely funny!” “Do you know him?” he asked abruptly. “I have not the honor of the gentleman's acquaintance. Ah,” she rejoined bitterly, “I see what you mean; it is the old accusation, is it? I am a woman, and I 'sound the personal note.' I could not resent a cruelty for the sake of a man I do not know. But let it go. My resentment is personal, after all, since it is against a man I do know--_you_!” He leaned toward her because he could not help it. “I'd rather have resentment from you than nothing.” “Then I will give you nothing,” she answered quickly. “You flout me!” he cried. “That is better than resentment.” “I hate you most, I think,” she said with a tremulousness he did not perceive, “when you say you do not care to go back to Plattville.” “Did I say it?” “It is in every word, and it is true; you don't care to go back there.” “Yes, it is true; I don't.” “You want to leave the place where you do good; to leave those people who love you, who were ready to die to avenge your hurt!” she exclaimed vehemently. “Oh, I say that is shameful!” “Yes, I know,” he returned gravely. “I am ashamed.”