"Hallo, Hallo!" was said by each to the other, while both looked a little conscious, and Neil burst out, impulsively, "I say, Jack, what brings you over here?"
"The same which brought you, I dare say," Jack replied. "I am going to call upon your cousin."
"The deuce you are! I thought so," Neil answered, in a tone of voice indicative of anything but pleasure.
"Have you any objections?" Jack asked, and Neil replied:
"No—yes. Jack. You are as good—yes, better than most of the fellows in our set, but—" He hesitated, and Jack rejoined:
"But what? Go on."
"By Jove, I will speak out!" Neil continued, going close to his cousin. "You are a man of the world, accustomed to all sorts of girls—girls who laugh and flirt and let you make soft speeches to them and never think of you again because they know you mean nothing. But Bessie is not that kind; she is innocent and pure as a baby, and believes all you say, and—and—by George, Jack, if you harm a hair of her head I'll beat you into a pomace! You understand?"
"Yes, I rather think I do," Jack answered, with a smile; "and, Neil, you are more of a man than I supposed; upon my soul you are; but never fear, I will not flirt with Bessie, I will not make love to her, unless—I fall in love myself, in which case I cannot promise; but don't distress yourself. The Welsh rose is as safe with me as with you. Good-morning!" and so saying, he walked off in the direction of Abingdon road, while Neil rather unwillingly bought his ticket and went through the narrow way and down the stairs to wait for the incoming train.