now? They want to
keep the thing up and be liked all the time."

"Well--if one likes people at all, one ought to like them all the time,"
objected Clare, with unnecessary contrariety.

"That was the original point," observed Brook. "That was your objection
to the man in the book--that he loved first one sister and then the
other. Poor chap! The first one loved him, and the second one prayed for
him! He had no luck!"

"A man who will do that sort of thing is past praying for!" retorted the
young girl. "It seems to me that when a man makes a woman believe that
he loves her, the best thing he can do is to be faithful to her
afterwards."

"Yes--but supposing that he is quite sure that he can't make her
happy--"

"Then he had no right to make love to her at all."

"But he didn't know it at first. He didn't find out until he had known
her a long time."

"That makes it all the worse," exclaimed Clare with conviction, but
without logic.

"And while he was trying to find out, she fell in love with him,"
continued Brook. "That was unlucky, but it wasn't his fault, you know--"

"Oh yes, it was--in that book at least. He asked her to marry him
before he had half made up his mind. Really, Mr. Johnstone," she
continued, almost losing her temper, "you defend the man almost as
though you were defending yourself!"

"That's rather a hard thing to say to a man, isn't it?"

Johnstone was young enough to be annoyed, though he was amused.

"Then why do you defend the man?" asked Clare, standing still at a turn
of the road and facing him.

"I won't, if we are going to quarrel about a ridiculous book," he
answered, looking at her. "My opinion's not worth enough for that."

"If you have an opinion at all, it's worth fighting for."

"I don't want to fight, and I won't fight with you," he answered,
beginning to laugh.

"With me or with any one else--"

"No--not with you," he said with sudden emphasis.

"Why not with me?"

"Because I like you very much," he answered boldly, and they stood
looking at each other in the middle of the road.

Clare had started in surprise, and the colour rose slowly to her face,
but she would not take her eyes from his. For the first time it seemed
to her that he had no power over her.

"I'm sorry," she answered. "For I don't like you."

"Are you in earnest?" He could not help laughing.

"Yes." There was no mistaking her tone.

Johnstone's face changed, and for the first time in their ac