Presently he had, as I suppose, enough of looking at me, and spoke.

’Atherton, what is the matter with you?—­Have I done something to offend you too?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Your manner seems a little singular.’

‘You think so?’

‘I do.’

‘What have you come to see me about?’

‘Just now, nothing.—­I like to know where I stand.’

His manner was courteous, easy, even graceful.  I was outmanoeuvred.  I understood the man sufficiently well to be aware that when once he was on the defensive, the first blow would have to come from me.  So I struck it.

’I, also, like to know where I stand.—­Lessingham, I am aware, and you know that I am aware, that you have made certain overtures to Miss Lindon.  That is a fact in which I am keenly interested.’

‘As—­how?’

’The Lindons and the Athertons are not the acquaintances of one generation only.  Marjorie Lindon and I have been friends since childhood.  She looks upon me as a brother—­’

‘As a brother?’

‘As a brother.’

‘Yes.’

’Mr Lindon regains me as a son.  He has given me his confidence; as I believe you are aware, Marjorie has given me hers; and now I want you to give me yours.’

‘What do you want to know?’

’I wish to explain my position before I say what I have to say, because I want you to understand me clearly.—­I believe, honestly, that the thing I most desire in this world is to see Marjorie Lindon happy.  If I thought she would be happy with you, I should say, God speed you both! and I should congratulate you with all my heart, because I think that you would have won the best girl in the whole world to be your wife.’

‘I think so too.’

’But, before I did that, I should have to see, at least, some reasonable probability that she would be happy with you.’

‘Why should she not?’

‘Will you answer a question?’

‘What is the question?’

’What is the story in your life of which you stand in such hideous terror?’

There was a perceptible pause before he answered.

‘Explain yourself.’

‘No explanation is needed,—­you know perfectly well what I mean.’

‘You credit me with miraculous acumen.’

‘Don’t juggle, Lessingham,—­be frank!’

’The frankness should not be all on one side.—­There is that in your frankness, although you may be unconscious of it, which some men might not unreasonably resent.’

‘Do you resent it?’

’That depends.  If you are arrogating to yourself the right to place yourself between Miss Lindon and me, I do resent it, strongly.’

‘Answer my question!’

‘I answer no question which is addressed to me in such a tone.’