"Of him."
"Why?"
"Because you don't understand him."
"That's an excellent reason for keeping him at a distance."
"Reason, reason. What has reason to do with affairs of this kind?"
"Much, in my case, I assure you. Thank you for forewarning me so plainly."
"I've no dark designs against your peace."
Nevertheless, these half-jesting words foreshadowed the future, so far as Mr. Vosburgh and Mr. Merwyn were concerned. Others were usually present when the latter called, and he always seemed to enjoy a quiet talk with the elder man. Mrs. Vosburgh never failed in her cordiality, or lost hope that his visits might yet lead to a result in accordance with her wishes. Marian made much sport of their protege, as she called him, and, since she now treated him with the same courtesy that other mere calling acquaintances received, the habit of often spending part of the evening at the modest home grew upon him. Mr. Vosburgh soon discovered that the young man was a student of American affairs and history. This fact led to occasional visits by the young man to the host's library, which was rich in literature on these subjects.
On one stormy evening, which gave immunity from other callers, Marian joined them, and was soon deeply interested herself. Suddenly becoming conscious of the fact, she bade them an abrupt good-night and went to her room with a little frown on her brow.
"It's simply exasperating," she exclaimed, "to see a young fellow of his inches absorbed in American antiquities when the honor and liberty of America are at stake. Then, at times, he permits such an expression of sadness to come into his big black eyes! He is distant enough, but I can read his very thoughts, and he thinks me obduracy itself. He will soon return to his elegant home and proceed to be miserable in the most luxurious fashion. If he were riding with Mr. Lane, to-night, on a raid, he would soon distinguish between his cherished woe and a soldier's hardships."