know what. He hates women, and says we're always meddling
in men's affairs. It served me right, of course. And please remember
it was all my fault--truly!"

"Did he say anything about making peace?" asked Claire.

"No. That was all mine. I had to do something quickly. You know
that."

"But what did he say about me?" growled Huntington, who was far from
satisfied, and still suspicious.

"Not much. Oh, yes!" she added impulsively. "He said you and he could
probably come to an understanding quickly enough if--"

She paused, embarrassed.

"If what?" demanded Huntington.

"That was only because he dislikes women, I think. He said--if
Claire--Mrs. Huntington, he said,--would let you alone."

"I?" cried Claire. It was almost a scream of astonishment and
indignation.

"I'll show him!" shouted Huntington. "He'd better keep her name out of
it, or I'll--"

"I haven't done anything!" wailed Claire.

"I'll make him pay for that!" bellowed Huntington, bringing his fist
down on the mantel.

"You mustn't blame him!" protested Marion hastily. "He was angry at
me, and I don't think he's as bad as you think he is."

"Marion!" cried Claire, her eyes widening with wonder.

Then Marion had the misfortune to blush under Claire's curious gaze.
She blushed, at first, merely because she had gone too far in her
effort to clear Haig of responsibility for what had occurred that
evening; and then the blood stormed into her cheeks as she encountered
Claire's look, and attached a deeper meaning to it than it actually
conveyed.

Huntington leaned forward, and gazed suspiciously into Marion's
crimsoned face.

"Well, I'll be damned!" he broke out. "You'd think the girl was in
love with this ruffian!"

For an instant there was a silence much like the silence that follows
a clap of thunder. Then Marion rose slowly to her feet, quivering, her
eyes ablaze.

"Ruffian?" she cried. "If there's any ruffian it's--"

She caught herself. She was innately gentle and fastidious, and she
could not, without shame, have forced her lips to say the things that
she felt in her outraged heart. But she looked at him; and under that
look Seth quailed and shrank. What had he said to evoke this luminous
hatred? He had not meant--

"And I think she's right, Seth Huntington!" exclaimed Claire, coming
to Marion, and putting an arm, around her. "If there's any ruffian
it's you, and I'm ashamed of you!"

Huntington's jaw dropped, and he stared at them,