“I can’t even talk to Nancy about it. She’s keen, but she does not understand Christine. She attributes the most shocking motives to her, and when I object, she says every one is like that, only I haven’t sense enough to see it. Well, I never pretended to have as much sense as Nancy, but I see some things that she doesn’t. I see, for instance, that there’s something noble in Christine, in spite of--I beg your pardon for talking to you like this, but you must remember that I have known her a good deal longer than you have, and that in a different way perhaps I care for her almost as much as you do.” “I told you to speak frankly,” answered Riatt. “What is it that Mrs. Almar says of Christine?” At first Hickson refused to answer, but the suffering and anxiety he had been undergoing pushed him toward self-expression, and Riatt did not have to be very skilful to extract the whole story. Nancy had asserted that Christine had never intended for a minute to marry Riatt--that she had just used him to excite Linburne’s jealousy to such a point that he would arrange matters so that he could marry her himself. For once Riatt found himself in accord with Nancy. “Do more people than your sister think that?” Hickson was not without his reserves. “Oh, I dare say, but I don’t care about that sort of gossip. It’s absurd to say she and Linburne are engaged. How can a girl be engaged to a married man?” “We must move with the times, my dear Hickson,” said Riatt bitterly. “Linburne’s no good,” Ned went on, “not where women are concerned. He wouldn’t treat her well if he did marry her. Why, Riatt,” he added solemnly, “I’d far rather see her married to you than to him.” If Max felt disposed to smile at this innocent endorsement, he suppressed the inclination, and merely answered: “You may have your wish.” “I hope so,” said Ned. “But you mustn’t go off to kingdom-come, and leave Linburne a clear field. He’s a man who knows how to talk to women, and what with the infatuation she has always had for him--” “You think she has always cared for him?” asked Max. He tried to smooth his tone down to one of calm interest, but it alarmed Hickson. “I don’t know,” he returned hastily. “I used to think so, but I may be wrong. I thought the same thing about you at the Usshers’. She kept saying she wasn’t a bit in love with you, but it seemed to me she was different with you from what she had ever been with any one else. I suppose I oughtn’t to have said that either. Upon my word, Riatt, it is awfully good of you to let me talk like this! I can assure you it is a great relief to me.” His companion could hardly have echoed this sentiment. As he walked back alone to his hotel, he found that Hickson’s words had put the last touches to his mental discomfort.