"I have no censorship, of course. I have only the interest of loving
you, and meaning to marry you."
"And I may remark in passing, that you are making no progress to that
end by slandering my friends."
"Adrienne, I'm not slandering. God knows I hate cads and snobs. Mr.
South is simply, as yet, uncivilized. Otherwise, he would hardly take
you, unchaperoned, to--well, let us say to ultra-bohemian resorts,
where you are seen by such gossip-mongers as William Farbish."
"So, that's the specific charge, is it?"
"Yes, that's the specific charge. Mr. South may be a man of unusual
talent and strength. But--he has done what no other man has done--with
you. He has caused club gossip, which may easily be twisted and
misconstrued."
"Do you fancy that Samson South could have taken me to the Wigwam Road-
house if I had not cared to go with him?"
The man shook his head.
"Certainly not! But the fact that you did care to go with him
indicates an influence over you which is new. You have not sought the
bohemian and unconventional phases of life with your other friends."
Adrienne glanced at the athletic figure riding at her side, just now
rather rigid with restraint and indignation, as though his vertebrae
were threaded on a ramrod, and her eyes darkened a little.
"Now, let it be thoroughly understood between us, Wilfred," she said
very quietly, "that if you see any danger in my unconventionalities, I
don't care to discuss this, or any other matter, with you now or at any
time." She paused, then added in a more friendly voice: "It would be
rather a pity for us to quarrel about a thing like this."
The young man was still looking into her eyes, and he read there an
ultimatum.
"God knows I was not questioning you," he replied, slowly. "There is
no price under heaven I would not pay for your regard. None the less, I
repeat that, at the present moment, I can see only two definitions for
this mountaineer. Either he is a bounder, or else he is so densely
ignorant and churlish that he is unfit to associate with you."
"I make no apologies for Mr. South," she said, "because none are
needed. He is a stranger in New York, who knows nothing, and cares
nothing about the conventionalities. If I chose to waive them, I think
it was my right and my responsibility."
Horton said nothing, and, in a moment, Adrienne Lescott's manner
changed. She spoke more gently: "Wilfred, I'm sorry you choose to take this prejudice against the boy.
You could have done a great deal to help him. I wanted you to be
friends."