"Don't speak of him," said the young fellow, flaring up at once. "If I think of him I shall get angry again. I can't bear the look of the beggar."
"Steady, my young friend, steady," I returned. "You mustn't call other people's friends by that name."
"He is not your friend," said Glenbarth excitedly. "You've never seen him until to-night, and you've known me ever since I was about so high."
"I began to imagine you only 'so high' this evening," I said. "It's a good thing for you that the wife has gone to bed, or I fancy you would have heard something that would have made your ears tingle. After the foolish manner of women, she has come to the conclusion that she would like you to marry Miss Trevor."
"God bless her!" he said fervently. "I knew that she was my friend."
"In that case you would probably have enjoyed a friend's privilege, had you been here to-night before she retired, and have received a dressing-down that is usually reserved for her husband. I live in hopes that you may get it to-morrow."
"Bosh!" he answered. "And now, if you have forgiven me, I think I will go to bed. I've had enough of myself for one day."
With that we shook hands, and bade each other good-night. At his bedroom door he stopped me.
"Do you think she will forgive me?" he asked, as humbly as would a boy who had been caught stealing sugar-plums.
"My wife," I answered. "Yes, I think it is very probable that she will."