"I am glad," said Captain English, simply.
And Bethune dropped the girl's hand to meet the strong clasp held out to him.
He knew that from henceforth all misunderstanding was swept away from between them. If he had felt before for his friend that love closer than a brother's, it was cemented now by the strongest bond that can exist between generous natures—that of forgiver and forgiven. He was forgiven with the only real forgiveness—that which understands.
"Have they not brought breakfast?" cried Baby, the housekeeper, very bustling all at once, to cover her pretty confusion. She sprang to the bell, then checked herself, with finger on lip, and tripped from the room, pointing her feet and laughing over her shoulder, as if to her happy years even that sad precaution of quietness must have its mirthful side.
Both men looked after her indulgently. Then Bethune's face clouded.
"She is but a child, after all," he said doubtfully.
"Nay," said Harry, "it seems to me she has a woman's heart."
"She is as true as steel," asserted her lover.
When the girl returned, English went restlessly forth. He would wait for M. Châtelard, he said, in the hall. The newly betrothed were alone; and, for a second or two, eyed each other shyly. Then Bethune's face softened in the old, good way; and yet with something, too, that had never been there before, something which made Aspasia drop her lids.
"Well, Robin?" said he, and beckoned. She came to him sidling.