y old friend's
forgiveness, but he still went on: "Still, my dear, you must allow me
to represent that your residence here, though it is self-innocent,
exposes you to unpleasant complications. I cannot think it well that a
young lady of your age should live entirely with two youths without
female society, and be constantly associating with such friends as they
may collect round them."

I remember now how the unshed tears burnt in my eyes as I said the
female society had left me to myself, and begged to know with whom I
had associated. In return I heard something that filled me with
indignation about his nephew, Dermot Tracy, not being exactly the
companion for an unchaperoned young lady, far less his sporting
friends, or that young man who had been Dr. Kingston's partner. He was
very sorry for me, as he saw my cheeks flaming, but he felt it right
that I should be aware. I told him how I had guarded myself--never
once come across the sportsmen, and only seen Mr. Yolland
professionally when he showed me how to dress Harold's hand, besides
the time when he went over the pottery with us. Nay, Dermot himself
had only twice come into my company--once about his sister, and once to
inquire after Harold after the adventure with the lion.

There I found I had alluded to what made Lord Erymanth doubly convinced
that I must be blinded; my sight must be amiably obscured, as to the
unfitness--he might say, the impropriety of such companions for me. He
regretted all the more where his nephew was concerned, but it was due
to me to warn, to admonish, me of the true facts of the case.

I did not see how I could want any admonition of the true facts I had
seen with my own eyes.

He was intensely astonished, and did not know how to believe that I had
actually seen the lion overpowered; whereupon I begged to know what he
had heard. He was very unwilling to tell me, but it came out at last
that Dermot and Harold--being, he feared, in an improperly excited
condition--had insisted on going to the den with the keeper, and had
irritated the animal by wanton mischief, and he was convinced that this
could not have taken place in my presence.

I was indignant beyond measure. Had not Dermot told him the true
story? He shook his head, and was much concerned at having to say so,
but he had so entirely ceased to put any confidence in Dermot's
statements that he preferred not listening to them. And I knew it was
vain to try to show him t