ality or his type. He isn't at all 'smart,' in their sense."
"Oh yes, their sense: I know it. It's not a nice sense!" Mrs. Rushbrook exclaimed, with a critical sigh.
"At the same time Veronica is dying to be married, and they are delighted with his money. It makes up for deficiencies," I explained.
"And is there so much of it?"
"Lots and lots. I know by the way he lives."
"An American, you say? One doesn't know Americans."
"How do you mean, one doesn't know them?"
"They're vague to me. One doesn't meet many."
"More's the pity, if they're all like Wilmerding. But they can't be. You must know him—I'm sure you'll like him."
"He comes back to me; I see his face now," said Mrs. Rushbrook. "Isn't he rather good-looking?"
"Well enough; but I'll say he's another Antinous if it will interest you for him."
"What I don't understand is your responsibility," my friend remarked after a moment. "If he insists and persists, how is it your fault?"
"Oh, it all comes back to that. I put it into his head—I perverted his mind. I started him on the fatal course—I administered the primary push."
"Why can't you confess your misdemeanour to him, then?"
"I have confessed—that is, almost. I attenuated, I retracted, when I saw how seriously he took it; I did what I could to pull him back. I rode after him to-day and almost killed my horse. But it was no use—he had moved so abominably fast."
