“I think I do. Julius said so once.”
“So if we are to have such tears and despair as there were about the ball in the Chimæra, then—”
“I was wrong then,” said Anne. “I did not behave at all well to you all that time, dear Miles; I have been sorry for it ever since I understood.”
“It was not you, little one, it was Mr. Pilgrim.”
“No, it was not Mr. Pilgrim who made me cross.”
“Yes, it was. He exacted pledges that he had no right to lay on your conscience, and your poor little conscience was in terrible straits, and I was too angry to feel for it. Never mind all that; you have done with the fellow, and understand better now.”
“He thought he was right, and that only such abstinence could guard me. And, Miles, a promise is a promise, and I do not think I ought to dance or play at cards. It is not that I think them wrong for others, but I cannot break my word. Except those—I will do whatever is fitting for your wife.”
“Spoken like a heroine!”
“I don’t think I could ever give a tone. Rosamond could, if she tried, but I have no readiness and no training; but I do see that there is more good in being friendly like Jenny Bowater, than in avoiding everything, and as long as one does it because it is right and loving, it can’t be the world or worldliness.”
It was not lucidly expressed, but it satisfied the Captain.