"If he isn't, he ought to be ashamed of himself," said Mrs. Hodge, and she launched on a description of Mrs. Robert's pitiable state.
"Well, I don't think that he's got more than five pounds in the world," responded Arthur. "And he's got no chance of making any money. Nobody dares publish what he wants to write."
"He used to be pleasant at Littlehill," Nellie remarked, "when we were first there."
"Yes, wasn't he? But he's gone quite wild over Dale. Do you know what his next move is?" And Arthur disclosed the Johnstone conspiracy.
"It will be rather sport, won't it?" he asked. "Poor old Dale!"
But no; Miss Fane did not see the "sport." She was indignant; she thought that such a trick was mean, malicious, and odious in the highest degree, and she was surprised that Arthur Angell could be amused at it.
"Women never see a joke," said Arthur huffily.
"Where's the joke in making Dale unhappy and—and absurd? And you call yourself his friend!"
"It's only a joke. Old Dale does deserve a dig, you know."
"And pray, why? You choose your friends, why mayn't he choose his? I dare say you would be glad enough to know that sort of people if you could."