“As how?” asked he, frankly, and with no touch of irritation. “Am I to be candid?” “Certainly.” “Even to rudeness?” “Cut as deeply as you like,” said he, smiling. “Then here goes: For the 'small ambition' I speak of, it was displayed yesterday at dinner, when, in rivalry with that old lawyer, you condescended to play agreeable, to out-talk him, out-quote, and out-anecdote him. It is true you succeeded; but what a poor success it was! how inadequate to the forces that were mustered to effect it!” “And now for the other count of the indictment,” said he, with a half smile. “First, do you plead guilty to this one?” asked she. “Yes; with an 'extenuating circumstance.'” “What is that?” “Why, that _you_ were present,” said Jack, with a glance of more than mere passing gallantry. “Well,” said she, after a pause, “I _did_ take some of the display to my own share. I saw that you did n't care to captivate the young lady of the house, and that my Lady bored you.” “Insufferably!” exclaimed Jack, with energy. “Your manner showed it,” said she, “even more than such polish ought to have betrayed.” “But I 'm sure I never exhibited any signs of my martyrdom,” said he; “I stood my torture well.” “Not half so heroically as you fancied I noticed your weariness before the dinner was half over, as I detected your splenetic dislike to young Mr. Nelligan--” “To young Nelligan?--then he has told you--” “Stop,--be cautious,” broke she in, hurriedly; “don't turn evidence against yourself. _He_ has told me nothing.” “Then what do you know?” “Nothing; I only surmise.” “And what is your surmise?” “That he and you had met before,--that you had even been intimate,--and now, from some misunderstanding, you had ceased to be friends. Mind, I don't want confessions; I don't seek to learn your secrets.” “But you shall hear this from me,” said Massingbred, with earnestness; “and perhaps you, so ready to blame me for some things, may see reason to think well of me in this.” He then related, briefly, but simply, the history of his acquaintance with Nelligan; he dwelt, not without feeling, upon the passages of their student-life, and at last spoke of his chance visit to Oughterard, and the accident by which he became old Nelligan's guest. “What can you make of Joseph's conduct,” cried he; “or how explain his refusal to meet me at his father's table? One of two reasons there must be. He either discredits me in the character of his friend, or shrinks, with an ignoble shame, from appearing there in his real position,--the son of the country shopkeeper! I scarcely know if I 'd not prefer he should have been actuated by the former motive; though more offensive to me, in _him_ it were more manly.” “Why not have asked him which alternative he accepted?” asked Kate.