"Of course you forgot yourself, brother, when you impulsively declared your purpose to visit Mr. Boyd Westover to-day. The one serious fault in your nature is impulsiveness. You are too chivalric, too trusting, too confident of others, too apt to think of them as men like yourself." "What is it you want to say, Betsy?" asked the Colonel as he sank limply into one of the porch chairs. "Only that upon reflection you must see that it won't do for you to call upon Mr. Westover." "But why not?" "There are a dozen reasons. He's a man under a cloud you know. He has been regularly convicted of a crime, and sentenced for it, and--" "But he has been fully vindicated and pardoned," interrupted the Colonel. "Yes, of course. Fully vindicated by the confession of a demented man who may or may not know what he is saying. It may be--well, anything may be, you know, and opinions in this community are likely to be divided as to the matter of Mr. Boyd Westover's guilt. So long as that remains unsettled the Master of The Oaks cannot afford to take sides by visiting Wanalah." "You mean that I, Colonel Robert Conway, of The Oaks, am not free to do as I damn please just because a lot of pestilent old gossips think to say me nay?" "You misunderstand me, Robert, and you grieve me to the heart by the violence of your language." "Did I swear? If so I beg pardon, but sometimes oaths will slip out. It's a bad habit I acquired in the army." "You utterly fail to understand me," said "Aunt Betsy." "I am not concerned about myself or you, or the family name, though that is dearer to me than all else in the world. I'm concerned for Margaret. You are a man, of course, but even a man ought to see that for Margaret's father to visit Westover of Wanalah, under existing circumstances, would be everywhere interpreted as throwing Margaret at his head, challenging him to fulfil his engagement with her. In brief it would be almost the equivalent of that vulgar impossibility in Virginia, a breach of promise suit." "Aunt Betsy" saw in Colonel Conway's face that she had carried her point, and she did not imperil the result by further speech. She suddenly applied her handkerchief to her eyes instead, and hastily retreated to her room, confident that on that day at least her brother would not ride over to Wanalah. XIV WESTOVER AT WANALAH