"What does that mean?" she asked.
"I am not a scandalmonger," John replied dryly. "I speak only of what I know. His estates near here are systematically neglected. He is the worst landlord in the country, and the most unscrupulous. His tenants, both here and in Westmoreland, have to work themselves to death to provide him with the means of living a disreputable life."
"Are you not forgetting that the Prince of Seyre is a friend of mine?" she asked stiffly.
"I forget nothing," he answered. "You see, up here we have not learned the art of evading the truth."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"So much for the Prince of Seyre, then. And now, why your dislike of my profession?"
"That is another matter," he confessed. "You come from a world of which I know nothing. All I can say is that I would rather think of you—as something different."
She laughed at his somber face and patted his arm lightly.
"Big man of the hills," she said, "when you come down from your frozen heights to look for the flowers, I shall try to make you see things differently!"