With the last word I stopped and faced him again. I saw his face change under my eyes.
I insisted: "You don't want to marry anybody but the girl I introduced you to myself—Muriel Elvey!"
Slowly the scarlet flush deepened on the young man's face; his eyes wavered, left mine. Utterly abashed he looked, shamefaced, miserably embarrassed; and how much younger in his awkwardness! He was a schoolboy again, caught out in some wrong-doing that put him not only in the wrong, but made him ridiculous—a thing no man can stand.
And no woman who is a woman can stand the sight of any man suffering thus! He was at my mercy; and my heart melted to him. Not with the old feeling. That, once dead, no power on earth can revive. Only a new feeling filled me; real kindliness towards him. Now that we could never be lovers I felt we might be friends.
Impulsively I cried, in a softened voice, "I couldn't help guessing. You needn't mind me, Harry!"
It was the first time that day that I'd called him by his name.
The trouble in his face seemed lightened by a gleam. His eyes softened as they met mine again. I suppose he saw the offered friendliness in them.
Deeply touched, he repeated boyishly, "You are decent, Joan!"
I laughed, repeating, "You needn't mind my having guessed; I shan't say anything!" I added, very gently, "Won't she have anything to do with you?"
Gloomily he shook his head; the handsome head that so many girls found irresistible. "Won't," he said, curtly. "She's turned me down half-a-dozen times, but I've always thought that I might ... might get round her. Until this last time when I've seen her with this fellow Holiday, down here——"