CHAPTER XXV
A SUNDAY AFTERNOON
By this time Van Buren was entirely in Harry's confidence; that is to say, Harry had gradually trained him to bear without flinching the situation as Harry represented it. He believed Harry had a hopeless romantic affection for Mrs. Romer Wyburn which he was trying to stifle, and that Miss Walmer being hopelessly in love with him, he was doing his best to marry her, partly, as he candidly admitted, on worldly grounds.
Van Buren was deeply touched at Harry's trust in him, and was always trying to keep him up to his good resolutions by pointing out that any understanding (however Platonic) between the pretty Valentia and the handsome guest was dishonourable, a breach of hospitality towards Romer, that silent but admirable host.
Indeed, he repeated to Harry so often and so firmly, "It can't be done; one can't make love to the wife of a friend," that Harry was driven to the point of replying that he hardly saw whom else, as a matter of fact, one could very well make love to; it being impossible to have romances with people one didn't know. And in this case the fact that Harry was very fond of Romer made the temptation far greater, as he explained; Harry being (as he pointed out) so very sensitive and highly strung that he could never, somehow, be really attracted by a woman whose husband was not sympathetic to him. Which point of view Van Buren, shaking his head, regarded as unsound.
Harry now spent much time giving picturesque sketches and impressions of his feelings to his friend, for he had an almost feminine love of talking over personal affairs to the sympathetic. In his benevolence Van Buren longed to protect Valentia and Romer, and to give Miss Walmer all she wanted; but most of all his idea was to save Harry from himself, so he always accepted with alacrity invitations to the Green Gate for altruistic reasons. Besides, his desire to see Daphne, although she was now becoming more and more remote to him, was still persistent, if a little less vivid.
"I've had a beautiful womanly letter from Alec to-day," Harry confided in Van as soon as he arrived. "You know the sort of thing she writes: all in jerks and subaltern's slang. With sincere sentiment showing between the lines. And I answered it."
"A beautiful manly letter, I hope? I'm sure you could do that as well as any one, Harry."