Hugh laughed good-naturedly, and presently said: “Mrs. Osborn, is there no way to break that Englishman’s head? I hardly think it’s fair to lose such a jewel as Miss Ethel from the Southwest.”
“I knew it,” said Mrs. Osborn, looking archly at Hugh. “I knew you were a silly fellow who would fall in love at the slightest provocation. I know of no way you could break Doctor Lenox Avondale’s head, but I have an idea that he is a sufficiently determined Englishman to play sad havoc with yours, should you interfere with Miss Ethel.”
“Do you call Miss Ethel a ‘slight provocation’.” inquired Hugh.
“Well, perhaps not so slight as some others might be,” replied Mrs. Osborn, condescendingly.
“Put your mind at rest,” Hugh continued, “for I did not lose my heart irretrievably, as you seem to suppose. The young lady appeals to my chivalry and respect, and I am sure I would be quite satisfied if she were my friend and I had the right to ward off a danger if I saw it approaching her.”
Mrs. Osborn laughed softly to herself, and looked incredulously at Hugh.
“I presume you think that I am modest in my wishes,” said Hugh, “or, possibly, you quite disbelieve me, but I assure you I state truthfully my position.”
“That may be your position to-night,” said Mrs. Osborn, “but what will it be to-morrow or next week or next month? Ah, I know you men too well to believe in your platonic friendships. A woman may successfully maintain such a feeling,—a man, never.”
Hugh made no reply, and for awhile they drove on in silence. As they alighted from the carriage at the Osborn door, she laid a hand on Hugh’s arm, and, bending toward him, she asked, in a soft, pleading voice:
“What would you give—what would you do for a friend who would tell you how to supplant Doctor Lenox Avondale?”