"A flash in the pan," said Milford.
"Well, I don't know as to that, for when there's a flash in the pan there's no report, but I guess you'll hear report enough when you meet those women over at the house. They've made a love affair out of it—they say you're treating a certain young woman shamefully. Oh, they've got it all fixed up to suit themselves. They told the 'peach' you were engaged, and that she's wrong to encourage you."
"The devil they did!" Milford shouted. "What right have they got to presume——"
"It's not presuming on the part of a woman, my dear fellow; it's a natural conclusion. The girl couldn't say a thing. She stammered, and finally she stormed. She said it was nothing to her if you were engaged to a thousand women. She threatened to leave, and then the women apologized. And about that time I decided that I wouldn't go to town to-day."
"I'll go over there," said Milford.
"No, don't do anything of the sort, not while you're mad. It's all right now."
"No, it's not all right, but I want to tell you that I'll make it all right".
"Now, don't go on getting hot. The thing was a joke, and is all smoothed over. It arose out of pity for the other young woman."
"Confound it! there isn't any other woman."
"That's all right; that's what I told them. No other woman, of course not. There never is. Well, I'll be off. I go at twelve forty-five."