"What keenness of vision!" Patty retorted. Then, hoping to give the conversation a less personal character, she added, "Hark! Who is that singing?"
A voice affecting the Scotch accent was appealing more frantically than tunefully to "Douglas, Douglas, tender and true."
"It is Miss Yamfert from Samoset," the lawyer said. "She is dressed in Scotch costume."
The voice sang on,—
"'Could you come back to me, Douglas, Douglas,
In the old likeness that I knew,
I would be so kind and faithful, Douglas,—
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true!'"
"Very pretty," Putnam remarked rather savagely. "But, if Douglas is comfortable where he is, he'd much better remain there. If she really loved him, she would have shown it while he was in the flesh. I've no faith in a love which expends itself only in tormenting its object."
"How harsh you are!" Patty said. "Doesn't your scheme of life allow any space for repentance?"
"Yes; but I've the smallest possible faith in it. If she hadn't love enough for Douglas to treat him decently, he was better off with no love at all. No doubt she would think herself sincere in making frantic promises over his grave; but, if he were back, it would be the same dreary story over again."
"Then Douglas had better leave her, and have done," Patty answered.