"But, my dear boy," his mother exclaimed, "admiration is not love; I don't believe you ever really loved her, and she always seemed to me to be all brains and no heart—one of those cold, silent natures incapable of loving."
"I think you are wrong there, mother. Marion is silent, but I don't believe she is cold or incapable of loving. She may, or may not, be incapable of expressing it, but I believe she could love very deeply and sincerely were her love once awakened."
"You know she has taken up the study of medicine?"
"Ned Elliott told me she had been studying with Dr. Parker for about a year."
"Dr. Parker tells me she is making remarkable progress."
"I don't doubt it, mother; she will probably make a success of it; she is just the woman to do so."
"There never was any mention of love between you two, was there, or any engagement?" Darrell's mother asked, with some hesitation, after a brief silence.
"None whatever," he replied, then added, with a smile: "We considered ourselves in love at the time,—at least, I did; but as I look back now it seems a very Platonic affair; but I thought I loved her, and I think she loved me."
"You say, Darrell, that your regard for her is unchanged?"
"Yes; the same as ever."