At the same moment she raised her eyes to his inquiringly.
"I mean," said Arthur, quite confused, "that I don't--somehow--that is to say, you know, there's a sort of impression you get about people--" Lawrence Newt interposed-- "I suppose that Arthur doesn't like Abel for the same reason that oil doesn't like water; for the same reason that you, Miss Amy, and Miss Wayne, would probably not like such a man." Arthur Merlin looked fixedly at Hope Wayne.
"What kind of man is Mr.Newt ?" asked Hope, faintly coloring.

She was trying herself.
"Don't you know him ?" asked Arthur, abruptly and keenly.
"Yes," replied Hope, as she worked on, only a little more rapidly.
"Well, what kind of man do you think him to be ?" continued Arthur, nervously.
"That is not the question," answered Hope, calmly.
Lawrence Newt and Amy Waring looked on during this little conversation.
They both wanted Hope to like Arthur.

They both doubted how Abel might have impressed her.

Lawrence Newt had not carelessly said that neither Amy nor Hope would probably like Abel.
"Miss Hope is right, Arthur," said he.

"She asks what kind of man my nephew is.