And Mina annoyed him intensely, assuming an aggrieved air, and hinting severe moral condemnation in every glance of her eye. She behaved for all the world as though the Major had begun the whole thing, and entirely ignored her own responsibility. She conveyed the view that he was the unscrupulous assailant, she the devoted defender, of the Tristrams. Such a volte-face as this was not only palpably unjust, it was altogether too nimble a bit of gymnastics for Duplay to appreciate. The general unreasonableness of woman was his only refuge; but the dogma could not bring understanding, much less consolation, with it.
"What did you tell me for, then?" he cried at last. "You were hot on it then. Now you say you won't help me, you'll have nothing more to do with it!"
"I only told it you as—as a remarkable circumstance," the Imp alleged, with a wanton disregard for truth.
"Nonsense, Mina. You were delighted to have a weapon against young Tristram then."
"I can't help it if you insist on misunderstanding me, uncle; and, anyhow, I suppose I can change my mind if I like, can't I?"
"No," he declared, "it's not fair to me. I can't
make you out at all. You're not in love with Harry Tristram, are you?"
"With that boy?" asked Mina, attempting to be superb.
"That's women's old nonsense," observed Duplay, twirling his mustache knowingly. "They often fall in love with young men and always try to pass it off by calling them boys."
"Of course I haven't your experience, uncle," she rejoined, passing into the sarcastic vein.