CHAPTER IX. MAITLAND'S FRIEND
“I don't think I 'll walk down to the Burnside with you to-day,” said Beck Graham to Maitland, on the morning after their excursion.
“And why not?”
“People have begun to talk of our going off together alone,—long solitary walks. They say it means something—or nothing.”
“So, I opine, does every step and incident of our lives.”
“Well. You understand what I intended to say.”
“Not very clearly, perhaps; but I shall wait a little further explanation. What is it that the respectable public imputes to us?”
“That you are a very dangerous companion for a young lady in a country walk.”
“But am I? Don't you think you are in a position to refute such a calumny?”
“I spoke of you as I found you.”