me by one of the first men in New York; received everywhere. You are both
strangers to me. This is a matter of purely individual testimony," Mr.
Brown went on, feeling that he was growing exquisitely subtile, and
clothing himself in imaginary ermine as he spoke. "He may tell me that
_you_ are a rascal. In that event, how am I to know who is the honest man
and who the villain? Shall I believe you, or shall I believe him, in the
absence of documentary evidence and disinterested statement? As my guest,
he has, if anything, the prior claim to consideration; though I am far
from saying that whatever views you may advance will not have equal weight
with me,--as _views_, mark you."

"You can believe who you please and what you please," said Mr. Ramsay;
"but remember that I have given you warnin'. He may be your guest, but he
is my cousin, and I should think that I ought to know what I am talkin'
about. There is no necessity for me stayin' any longer."

He rose to go, but Mr. Brown stopped him by a gesture. "A cousin!" he
exclaimed. "Do not excite yourself; be calm. On the face of it, that would
seem conclusive; but appearances are notoriously deceitful. Will you
assure me on your honor that there is no motive, no family feud, at the
bottom of this? Cousins do not go about the world denouncing each
other--_as a rule_. Family pride, affection, a thousand things, prevent
them from making such things public; but still it is not impossible. I do
not say that it is _impossible_; only _improbable_,--very improbable. Give
me your word, though, that there is _no motive_.--we must always look for
a motive in these cases,--and I will promise to give the matter full and
impartial investigation."

"I'll do nothing of the sort. I will bid you good-morning," exclaimed
Mr. Ramsay, reaching out impetuously for his hat.