And when they won't understand, and rush on their doom, you feel that they are going to hold you respons--" Mrs.Horn's eyes wandered from Beaton; her voice faltered in the faded interest of her remark, and then rose with renewed vigor in greeting a lady who came up and stretched her glove across the tea-cups.
Beaton got himself away and out of the house with a much briefer adieu to the niece than he had meant to make.

The patronizing compassion of Mrs.Horn for the Leightons filled him with indignation toward her, toward himself.

There was no reason why he should not have ignored them as he had done; but there was a feeling.

It was his nature to be careless, and he had been spoiled into recklessness; he neglected everybody, and only remembered them when it suited his whim or his convenience; but he fiercely resented the inattentions of others toward himself.

He had no scruple about breaking an engagement or failing to keep an appointment; he made promises without thinking of their fulfilment, and not because he was a faithless person, but because he was imaginative, and expected at the time to do what he said, but was fickle, and so did not.