Mr. Williams smiled. It was so very youthful to make such a compact. "Is it a question then of staying out of the race?"
"I suppose so."
"I don't see why one of you hasn't as good right as the other, and, after all, it will be the man who decides."
"Certainly. I said that. But you don't know the girl. She can always manage to make a man fall in love with her if she chooses. She is made that way and I am not. I don't mean that men never do like me, but all men like her, and if they don't in the beginning she makes them. She'll make this one, although she is sufficiently loyal to me not to really try to attract him, if I say I am deeply interested in him."
"I think," said Mr. Williams, "if you really want my honest opinion, that it would be much the best to go on as you have been doing, and let the future decide. There must be exceptions to all rules, and all men do not fall in love with Miss Fuller."
"Oh, how did you know?"
"I have eyes, little girl. Moreover, I know as a fact that one man has not fallen in love with your friend."
"You say that because you like me and want to increase my self-esteem. Who is the man? Ned Symington?"
"No." Mr. Williams looked grave. "Ned is a nice lad, but he is not thinking of falling in love with a—Highlander."
"Oh dear! I am sorry. I oughtn't to have said that. I never think of you as one of these dear fisher folk, and I forget to be sufficiently considerate sometimes. I wonder who has been making a confidant of you. I suppose you will not tell."