This did not help the matter any, and only furthered the mistaken thought of Mr. Benton; nevertheless for the sake of that dear friend, for whom I knew I could have borne anything, I had, after all, a secret delight, in being misunderstood. I was a willing martyr to a just cause, and we started together.
"Take my arm, Miss Minot."
"Thank you, walking is second nature to me, and very easy," I replied.
After walking a little further he said, "I am very glad of this opportunity to talk with you, Miss Minot; I fear, from what I gathered in our talk of this afternoon, your idea of me is one which I would fain alter—it is not pleasant to feel that one is misjudged—"
"I know that," I interrupted.
—"And especially when the charge is a serious one. I cannot understand why I was so feared; rude enough I must have seemed, and your first words gave me a shock; I hardly know now how to explain it, and what I desire is light. Pray tell me by what act of mine, you came to such an unwarrantable conclusion."
"It was no act of yours at all. Common sense, I suppose, told me you would not be foiled if you could help it. All men are selfish."
"Are not women?"
"No, sir," I replied, "they are foolish."
"Excuse the question, but has Mrs. Desmonde complained to you?"