Barney had held himself ready and a deep, involuntary sigh of relief, or of postponed suspense, now escaped him. “I see. I didn’t realize that,” he said. And how he hoped, poor Barney! it was all there was to realize! “Of course I’m very fond of Nancy.”
“You realize, of course, how fond she is of you.”
“Well; yes; of course. We’re both awfully good pals,” said Barney, confused.
“That’s what Palgrave would call speaking like a savage, Barney. Own to it that if Miss Toner hadn’t appeared upon the scene you could have hoped to make Nancy your wife. I don’t say you made love to her or misled her in any way. I’m sure you never meant to at any rate. But the fact remains that you were both so fond of each other that you would certainly have married. So you’ll understand that when I come down here and find Miss Toner installed as tutelary goddess over you all, what I’m mainly conscious of is grief for my dear little relegated nymph.”
Still deeply flushed, but still feeling his relief, Barney turned his wine-glass and murmured: “I see. I quite understand. Yes; I should have been in love with her, I own. I nearly was, last winter. As to her being in love with me, that’s a different matter. I’ve no reason to think she was in love. It would just be a difference of degree, with Nancy, wouldn’t it; she loves us all so much, and she’s really such a child, still. Of course that’s what she seems to me now, since Adrienne’s come; just a darling child.”
“I suppose so. But you understand what I feel, too. I feel her much more than a darling child, and it’s difficult for me to like anybody who has dispossessed her. I perfectly recognize Miss Toner’s remarkable qualities and hope to count myself among her friends one day; but, being a satirist and a sceptic, I rebel instinctively against goddesses of whatever brand. Nymphs are good enough for me; and I can’t help wishing, irrepressibly, that nymphs had remained good enough for you, my dear boy.”
“It isn’t a question of nymphs; it isn’t a question of goddesses,” Barney said, glancing up now at his friend. “I’m awfully sorry about Nancy; but of course she’ll find some one far better than I am; she’s such a dear. You’re not quite straight with me, Roger. I don’t see Adrienne as a goddess at all; I’m not like Palgrave, a silly boy, bowled over. It’s something quite different she does to me. She makes me feel safe; safe and happy in a way I never imagined possible. It’s like having the sunlight fall about one; it’s like life, new life, to be with her. She’s not a goddess; but she’s the woman it would break my heart to part with. I never met such loveliness.”
“My dear boy,” Oldmeadow murmured. He still leaned on the table and he still looked down. “I do wish you every happiness, as you know.” He was deeply touched and Barney’s quiet words troubled him as he had not before been troubled.
“Thanks. I know you do. I know you care for my happiness. And I can’t imagine anything coming into my life that would make a difference to us. That’s just it.” Barney paused. “It won’t, will it, Roger?”
The crisis was again upon them. Oldmeadow did not look up as he said: “That depends on her, doesn’t it?”