"Diana, at least, is in earnest," she remarked, with assumed
indifference. "You may not care to deny that you have been very
attentive to her."

"Not especially so," he declared, stoutly.

"People gossip, you know. And Diana is charming."

"She's an iceberg!"

"Oh, you have discovered that? Was she wholly unresponsive, then?"

"No," he said, with a touch of anger. "I have never cared for Diana,
except in a friendly way. She amused me for a while when--when I was
wretched. But I never made love to her; not for a moment. Afterward,
why--then----"

"Well; what then?" as he hesitated, growing red again.

"I found she had taken my careless attentions in earnest, and the play
was getting dangerous. So I went abroad."

Louise considered this explanation seriously. She believed he was
speaking the truth, so far as he knew. But at the same time she realized
from her own experience that Arthur might as easily deceive himself as
Diana in his estimate as to the warmth of the devotion he displayed. His
nature was impetuous and ardent. That Diana should have taken his
attentions seriously and become infatuated with the handsome young
fellow was not a matter to cause surprise.