"Why was he not there that day to receive you?" I asked at last.
"I don't know," she said. "I quite forgot about that. And I suppose he forgot too," she added, "since he never told me."
"Oh, Ideala!" I exclaimed, "how like you that is! It is most important that you should know whether he intended to slight you on that occasion or not. It is the key to his whole action in this matter."
"But supposing he did mean to be rude? I should have to forgive him, you know, because I have been rude to him—often. He does not approve of my conduct always, by any means," she placidly assured me.
"And does he, of all people in the world, presume to sit in judgment on you?" I answered, indignantly. "I always thought you the most extraordinary person in the world, Ideala, until I heard of this— gentleman."
"Hush!" she protested, as if I had blasphemed. "You must not speak of him like that. He is a gentleman—as true and loyal as you are yourself. And he is everything to me."
But these assurances were only what I had expected from Ideala, and in no way altered my opinion of Mr. Lorrimer. I knew Ideala's peculiar conscience well. She might do what all the world would consider wrong on occasion; but she would never do so until she had persuaded herself that wrong was right—for her at all events.
"He may be everything to you, but he has lowered you, Ideala," I resumed, thinking it best not to spare her.
"I was degraded when I met him."
"Circumstances cannot degrade us until they make us act unworthily," I rejoined.