very angry indeed. Nothing but what you have done for him lately could
have saved you; and even now I do not know--"

"Man," I said, "do not let us leave such talk as this. It is not I who
am in question--"

"I think you will find that it is," he answered me, with a quick look.

I strove to be patient, and, even more, to appear so.

"Well," I said, "what have I done? I am come back from France: I hear my
cousin is here; I go to see her; a fellow at the door is impertinent,
and I chastise him for it. Then I go upstairs to my cousin's parlour--"

"That is the point," he interrupted. "It is not your cousin's. It is the
lodging of the Maids of Honour."

Yes: he had me there. That was my weak point. But I would not let him
see that.

"How was I to understand that distinction? I knocked at the door as
peaceably as any man could."

"And after that," he said, smiling a little grimly, "after that, your
cousinly affection blinded you."

"Well, that will do," I said.

He smiled again.