“Why don’t you keep Mr. Lisle out of those Marples’ hands?” she asked him.
“In the first place, I’m not sure that I could do so; in the second, I don’t see why I should try,” Nasmyth replied. “On the whole, considering that he’s a Western miner, I don’t think he’s running a serious risk. Perhaps I might hint that Bella Crestwick’s hardly likely to consider him as big enough game.”
“Don’t be coarse!” Millicent paused. “But he spoke hotly in her defense.”
“After all,” responded Nasmyth, “I shouldn’t wonder if she deserves it; but it has no significance. You see, he’s a rather chivalrous person.”
Millicent flashed a quick glance at him, but his face was expressionless.
“What did he say?” he asked.
“I don’t remember exactly: he hinted that we were narrow-minded and uncharitable.”
Nasmyth laughed.
“I almost think there’s some truth in it. I’ve seen you a little severe on those outside the fold.”
“A man’s charity is apt to be influenced by a pretty face,” Millicent retorted.