Amy would not answer, and the sound of a mirthful snatch of song died musically away in the distance.
"Now, Mr. Webb," Maggie resumed, "what did you mean by that ominous flash from your cavern-like eyes?"
"It meant that Amy has probably been satisfied with one lover in the family and its unexpected result. I don't wish our relations embarrassed by the feeling that she must be on her guard against another."
"Oh, I see, you don't wish her to be on her guard."
"Dear Maggie, whatever you may see, appear blind. Heaven only knows what you women don't see."
"That's good policy, Webb. I'll be your ally now. I've suspected you for some time, but thought Burt and Amy were committed to each other."
"Amy does not suspect anything, and she must not. She is not ready for the knowledge, and may never be. All the help I ask is to keep her unconscious. I've been expecting you would find me out, for you married ladies have had an experience which doubles your insight, and I'm glad of the chance to caution you. Amy is happy in loving me as a brother. She shall never be unhappy in this home if I can prevent it."
Maggie entered heart and soul into Webb's cause, for he was a great favorite with her. He was kind to her children, and in a quiet way taught them almost as much as they learned at school. He went to his work with mind much relieved, for she and his mother were the only ones that he feared might surmise his feeling, and by manner or remark reveal it to Amy, thus destroying their unembarrassed relations, and perhaps his chance to win the girl's heart.