He had sent her a note, brief, courteous, and dignified. In it he had not used one word that might seem to accuse her; he had taken the entire blame upon himself. He had stated simply that he found he could not offer her the love of a husband, and he had placed himself in her hands. Now he was waiting for her answer.
But though he was waiting to hear from Lady Victoria, he was thinking of Belle Yorke. There are two kinds of misfortune which sometimes come upon a man at the same time; and one makes a public arrival, and it harasses him a great deal, but the other comes in silence and in secrecy, and it wrecks his life.
There was a knock at the door, and a footman announced Captain Mauleverer.
For the first time in the history of their friendship the two men faced each other with mutual embarrassment. The captain, like a sensible man, went straight at his fence.
“Look here, Hammond, I am awfully sorry I made such an ass of myself last night. I’m afraid I have given you a wrong impression about Victoria.”
“No. Why should you say that?” Hammond replied in a tone of indifference.
Mauleverer looked at him anxiously.
“I’m afraid I have led you to think there was something between us, that she—well, in fact, that she cared about me.”
Hammond gave a weary shrug.
“What of it? What does it matter?”