She tried to smile back at him, to find an answer.
Her brother was urging Farvel to go. "You'll find someone to marry us, won't you?" he begged. "Right away, Alan?"
"Oh, I understand," said Farvel. "I'd be a damper, wouldn't I?"
"Oh, no! Not that!"
Farvel laid a hand on Wallace's shoulder. "He feels as bad about it as
I do, dear old fellow!" he said.
The other moved away a step, and as if to take Farvel with him. "Yes,
Alan. Yes. But don't talk about it today. Not today."
Farvel crossed to the sofa and sat down. "I know," he admitted. "But today—this wedding—I don't—I can't seem to get her out of my mind." Then as if moved by a poignant thought, he bent his head and covered his face with both hands.
Sue was beside him at once. And dropped to a knee. "Oh, I wish I could help you," she said comfortingly.
Farvel did not look up. He began to speak in a muffled voice. "What did I do to deserve it?" he asked brokenly. "That's what I ask myself. What did I do?"
"Nothing!" she answered. "Nothing! Oh, don't blame yourself." Her hand went up to touch one of his.