"Made you?"
"Made," she repeated.
"And you did it?"
"I've promised I will."
"Why?"
"I don't just know," was her slow reply.
"Because he was afraid it might make bad blood between you and me?"
"That was one of the reasons he urged," she admitted. "But he thought, too, it would be bad for him and me."
A long silence. Then Arthur: "Del, I almost think you're not making such a mistake as I feared, in marrying him."
"So do I—sometimes," was his sister's, to him, astonishing answer, in an absent, speculative tone.