"Well, I can't bear him, and neither can Neal. Jack doesn't like him either."
"There, that is just it. You are so influenced by Neal and Jack. Tony Bronson spoke very nicely of Neal, as if he were a true friend of his."
"Pooh! Much friend he!"
"Well, he did, Cynthia, and that is just what I want to talk over with you. Neal must be in some terrible scrape."
"Has that Bronson been telling you about that?" cried Cynthia, indignantly.
"Oh, then it is really true! I thought it must be."
"No, it isn't—at least, not what Bronson told you. I am just certain that whatever he told you wasn't true," said Cynthia, who felt that she had said more than she should. "I shouldn't think you would have discussed Neal with him. Neal is one of our family."
"I didn't," said Edith, somewhat curtly, "though I don't exactly see why you should speak of Neal Gordon as one of our family. I told Mr. Bronson I preferred not to talk about him. But he spoke so nicely of Neal, and said he wanted to help him, and he was afraid the faculty would write about him, and he wanted to get him out of the scrape if he could."
"Oh, the hypocrite! But what is the scrape? Did he say?"
"No, I wouldn't let him. But it is absurd to call him a hypocrite, Cynthia. I shall never believe it unless you tell me why you think so."