It was horribly hard for him; there seemed to be no chance in sight. But forlorn hope was slowly rousing the soldier in him--the grim, dogged, desperate necessity of doing his duty to the full and of leaving consequences to that Destiny, which some call by a name more reverent. So first of all, when at length he had decided, he nerved himself to strike straight at the centre; and within the hour he found Gerald at the Stuyvesant Club. The boy descended to the visitors' rooms, Selwyn's card in his hand and distrust written on every feature. And at Selwyn's first frank and friendly words he reddened to the temples and checked him. "I won't listen," he said. "They--Austin and--and everybody have been putting you up to this until I'm tired of it. Do they think I'm a baby? Do they suppose I don't know enough to take care of myself? Are they trying to make me ridiculous? I tell you they'd better let me alone. My friends are my friends, and I won't listen to any criticism of them, and that settles it." "Gerald--" "Oh, I know perfectly well that you dislike Neergard. I don't, and that's the difference." "I'm not speaking of Mr. Neergard, Gerald; I'm only trying to tell you what this man Ruthven really is doing--" "What do I care what he is doing!" cried Gerald angrily. "And, anyway, it isn't likely I'd come to you to find out anything about Mrs. Ruthven's second husband!" Selwyn rose, very white and still. After a moment he drew a quiet breath, his clinched hands relaxed, and he picked up his hat and gloves. "They are my friends," muttered Gerald, as pale as he. "You drove me into speaking that way." "Perhaps I did, my boy. . . . I don't judge you. . . . If you ever find you need help, come to me; and if you can't come, and still need me, send for me. I'll do what I can--always. I know you better than you know yourself. Good-bye." He turned to the door; and Gerald burst out: "Why can't you let my friends alone? I liked you before you began this sort of thing!" "I will let them alone if you will," said Selwyn, halting. "I can't stand by and see you exploited and used and perverted. Will you give me one chance to talk it over, Gerald?" "No, I wont!" returned Gerald hotly; "I'll stand for my friends every time! There's no treachery in me!" "You are not standing by me very fast," said the elder man gently. "I said I was standing by my _friends_!" repeated the boy. "Very well, Gerald; but it's at the expense of your own people, I'm afraid." "That's my business, and you're not one of 'em!" retorted the boy, infuriated; "and you won't be, either, if I can prevent it, no matter whether people say that you're engaged to her--" "What!" whispered Selwyn, wheeling like a flash. The last vestige of colour had fled from his face; and Gerald caught his breath, almost blinded by the blaze of fury in the elder man's eyes.