don't remember."

"And did Miss Wycliffe take my part against the old man?"

The question arrested Leigh's attention, and traversed his
consciousness with a positive shock. It was he who was now on guard.
He would have repudiated the insinuation that he was jealous, and yet,
when a man is in love, jealousy in some sort may extend even to those
who cannot possibly be his rivals. As he divined that Emmet was
inclined to put too personal an interpretation upon Miss Wycliffe's
generosity of feeling, he was concerned to think that she might have
misplaced it, that this man might have the presumption to misunderstand
her. He became singularly forgetful of what had occurred at the
bishop's house, and seemed not to hear a further intimation from Emmet,
to the effect that he believed Miss Wycliffe was more than a match for
her father. It was now that Emmet discovered a greater possibility of
likeness between the bishop and his host than he had suspected so short
a time before. His evident curiosity in regard to Miss Wycliffe's real
purpose in sending the professor to him remained ungratified, and the
necessity which now faced him of retreating from a position in which he
had not been met caused him to take his actual departure presently with
something of his earlier restraint of manner. They separated, like
Glaucus and Diomedes, representatives of different camps, who
entertained for each other personally the greatest good-will and
respect. It may be, however, that each gave this assurance with mental
reservations more or less subconscious.

When Leigh was once more alone, he walked up and down his room
restlessly for some time. His first sensation was one of exasperation
with Miss Wycliffe for her ill-advised championship of a man who