It was the sort
of error he was always ready to repent, but always certain to
repeat; and on this occasion he spoke so freely that I soon made an
excuse and left the house with the firm purpose of returning no
more. About a month later, I met him at dinner at a common
friend's. 'Now,' said he, on the stairs, 'I engage you - like a
lady to dance - for the end of the evening. You have no right to
quarrel with me and not give me a chance.' I have often said and
thought that Fleeming had no tact; he belied the opinion then. I
remember perfectly how, so soon as we could get together, he began
his attack: 'You may have grounds of quarrel with me; you have
none against Mrs. Jenkin; and before I say another word, I want you
to promise you will come to HER house as usual.' An interview thus
begun could have but one ending: if the quarrel were the fault of
both, the merit of the reconciliation was entirely Fleeming's.
When our intimacy first began, coldly enough, accidentally enough
on his part, he had still something of the Puritan, something of
the inhuman narrowness of the good youth.
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