It did not take lady Ann long to interpret the glow on Barbara’s face to her own satisfaction. Undoubtedly, the reports she had heard had kept Barbara from encouraging Arthur. The sudden change on her countenance indicated her relief in finding nothing standing between herself and Arthur. How could she but prefer her Arthur to a man smelling of leather and glue, a man without the manners or education of a gentleman! He might know a few things that gentlemen did not care to know, but even those he got only out of books! He could not do one of the many things her Arthur did. He could neither ride nor shoot nor dress nor dance. He was tall, but he was clumsy. No doubt he was handsome in a vulgar sort of way, but when angry he was ugly enough!

The girl remained silent.

“You will oblige me, my dear Barbara,” said lady Ann, “by not alluding to this rumour. It might raise doubt and could do serious harm.”

“There are others who already know it, and believe it,” answered Barbara.

“Who are they?”

“I do not feel at liberty to tell their names. I thought you had a right to know what was said, but I have no right to mention where I heard it.”

Lady Ann grew thoughtful again and became convinced that Richard had indeed told her and that Barbara had not spoken the truth. It is so easy for those who lie to imagine that another is lying! And is it impossible for such to imagine that another would not lie when they have what they consider a strong reason for doing so. She believed also that Richard had gotten into the house in order to learn things that might serve his selfish ends.

“It will be much better if you keep silent concerning the report,” she said. “I do not want the question stirred up. If the young man—or any young man, I mean—should claim anything, we must meet the thing as it ought to be met. Till then, promise me you will be silent.”

She needed time to think, for she feared in some way to compromise herself. In any case, the longer the crisis could be postponed, the better.

“I will not promise anything,” answered Barbara. “I dread making promises.”

“Why?” asked lady Ann, raising her eyebrows.

“Because promises have to be kept, and that is sometimes very difficult, and because sometimes you find you ought not to have made them.”

“But if you ought to make the promise,” suggested lady Ann.

“Then you must make it. But where there is no ought, I think it wrong to bind yourself. What right have you, when you don’t know what may be wanted of you, to tie your own hands and feet?”

“Does friendship demand nothing? You are our guest!”

“One’s friends may have conflicting interests!” said Barbara.