And before they reached the station Flint knew all that there was to know—an abridged but unvarnished version—of the withering and dying of Dick's high hopes.
They talked softly together until the train steamed into the station; and then it was Dick who at the last moment returned to a matter just touched in passing:
"As to this dance to-night—you say I must go?"
"Of course you must go. It would never do to stay away. For one thing, your friend, the Colonel might be hurt and bothered, and he is now your best friend, mind. Then you must put a plucky face on it; she mustn't see you cave in after the first facer. I half think it isn't all up yet; you can't tell."
Dick shook his head.
"I would rather not go; it will be wormwood to me; you know what it will be: the two together. And I know it's all up. You don't understand women, Jack."
"Do you?" asked the other, keenly.
"She couldn't deny that—that—I can't say it, Jack."
"Ah, but you enraged her first! Anyway, you ought to go to-night for your people's sake. Your sister's looking forward to it tremendously; never been to a ball with you before; she told me so. By Jove! I wished I was going myself."
"I wish you were, instead of me."