"Tell me all."
"She said you were an impudent puppy, and she was sorry I invited you."
"Did she say that?" asked Laud, looking up to the cold, pale moon.
"She did; and I was obliged to tell her that I didn't invite you."
"Perhaps I have been a fool," mused the lover.
"There's no doubt of it. Nellie Patterdale dislikes, and even despises you. I have heard her say as much, in so many words. That ought to comfort you, and convince you that it is no use to fish any longer in those waters."
"Possibly you are right; but it is only because she does not know me. If she only knew me better—"
"She would dislike and despise you still more," said Donald, sharply. "If she only knew that you set the Maud afire, she would love you as a homeless dog likes the brickbats that are thrown at him."
"You will not tell her that, Don John?"
"I will not tell her, or any one else, if you behave yourself. Now I want to ask some more questions."