"Oh, that is only saying that some one else may be killed--some one in addition to Mr. Long," cried Betsy. "Ah, why is it that disaster follows an acquaintance with me? Why have I been doomed to bring unhappiness upon so many people?"
Dick did not ransack his memory for an answer to her question--an answer founded upon the records of history. He did not cite any of the cases with which he was acquainted, of the unhappiness brought about by the fatal dower of beauty.
"How can you accuse yourself in such a matter as this?" he said. "If a rascal behaves with rascality, are you to blame yourself because he tries to make you the victim? I will not hear so cruel, so unjust a thing said about one who is more than blameless in this matter. Dear Betsy, I know the sensibility of your heart, and how it causes you to shrink from much that others would give worlds to accomplish; but you must not be unjust to yourself."
This was poor pleading with the super-sensitiveness of a girl who could never be brought to look on fame as the noblest of cravings--nay, who was ready to sacrifice much in order to escape being famous.
"Bloodshed--bloodshed!" she murmured in great distress. "Oh, why did we come here to-day? If we had remained at home, all might have been well. Why cannot we go away to some place where we can live in freedom from all these disturbing influences? Ah, here comes Mr. Long. How pale he looks! Pray Heaven he has not been already hurt!"
Mr. Long, who had been repairing the slight disorderliness of his dress in one of the bedrooms, had some difficulty in reaching Betsy, where she sat remote from the crowd in the drawing-rooms. He had to wait for the compliments which his friends offered to him on all sides. Every one treated him with great respect, and many with deference. There did not seem to be any difference of opinion among Lady Miller's guests as to the propriety of his recent action; the only point which had been seriously discussed was in regard to the postillion's whip. Where had he got it? It was suggested on one side that he had brought it with him; but some who knew affirmed that the whip had been hanging in the hall, and that Mr. Long had, after the reading of the insulting doggerel, hurried up to the house and got possession of the weapon while the last poem was being lilted to the audience. At first, of course, there were some people who thought that Mr. Long had acted precipitately in assuming that Mathews had written the objectionable stanzas; but Lady Miller acknowledged immediately on entering the house that the manuscript was signed by Mathews, and thus complete unanimity prevailed by the time Mr. Long had returned to the room.