"There has been a rumour in Guestwick that he and you—"
"It is untrue," said Bell; "quite untrue. If you hear it repeated, you should contradict it. I wonder why people should say such things."
"It would have been an excellent marriage;—all your friends must have approved it."
"What do you mean, Dr. Crofts? How I do hate those words, 'an excellent marriage.' In them is contained more of wicked worldliness than any other words that one ever hears spoken. You want me to marry my cousin simply because I should have a great house to live in, and a coach. I know that you are my friend; but I hate such friendship as that."
"I think you misunderstand me, Bell. I mean that it would have been an excellent marriage, provided you had both loved each other."
"No, I don't misunderstand you. Of course it would be an excellent marriage, if we loved each other. You might say the same if I loved the butcher or the baker. What you mean is, that it makes a reason for loving him."
"I don't think I did mean that."
"Then you mean nothing."
After that, there were again some minutes of silence during which Dr. Crofts got up to go away. "You have scolded me very dreadfully," he said, with a slight smile, "and I believe I have deserved it for interfering—"
"No; not at all for interfering."