"You love to puzzle me," I said.
"There are lots of things I love about you—as a brother," he answered with a funny sigh. And I wasn't sure whether he was poking fun at me or not. "But, as for Miss Van Buren, why couldn't she look upon van Buren as a brother?"
"He's her cousin, and she doesn't love him much," I explained.
"Alb, then."
"She doesn't love him at all."
"Are you sure of that?"
"Oh, certain," I assured him quite earnestly.
"She's sick with anxiety about him anyhow. I had to comfort her."
"That's because she feels guilty for being so disagreeable," I said; "and she would of course suffer dreadful remorse, poor girl, if he were drowned looking after her boat, as I pray he won't be."
I began to understand now. Poor Mr. Starr was jealous of his friend, the Jonkheer.