"Have you been to see her?" she continued.
"I am anxious to know if her goodness and bravery caused her any—any discomfort at home."
"You may set your mind at rest about that," returned Eugene. "I was there when the Judge came home to dinner. I suppose you fear he may have been rough with her for taking my step-brother into the carriage. He was not. On the contrary, he spoke very quietly to her, and went on out toward the stables. But I haven't come to you to talk of Judge Pike, either!"
"No," said Ariel. "I don't care particularly to hear of him, but of Mamie."
"Nor of her, either!" he broke out. "I want to talk of you!"
There was not mistaking him; no possibility of misunderstanding the real passion that shook him, and her startled eyes betrayed her comprehension.
"Yes, I see you understand," he cried, bitterly. "That's because you've seen others the same way. God help me," he went on, striking his forehead with his open hand, "that young fool of a Bradbury told me you refused him only yesterday! He was proud of even rejection from you! And there's Norbert—and half a dozen others, perhaps, already, since you've been here." He flung out his arms in ludicrous, savage despair. "And here am I—"
"Ah yes," she cut him off, "it is of yourself that you want to speak, after all—not of me!"
"Look here," he vociferated; "are you going to marry that Joe Louden? I want to know whether you are or not. He gave me this—and this to-day!" He touched his bandaged hand and plastered forehead. "He ran into me—over me—for nothing, when I was not on my guard; struck me down—stamped on me—"
She turned upon him, cheeks aflame, eyes sparkling and dry.