The question had a shamed and sullen ring. Bunny's head was bent. He was examining a little china figure on the mantelpiece with nervous concentration.
Jake arose without fuss or preliminary, and pushed a brotherly arm round the bent shoulders. "Guess you've never been that, sonny," he said very kindly. "But—you take an old man's advice and go a bit slow! She'll think all the better of you for it."
"She'll never look at me," muttered Bunny, gripping the hand that pressed his shoulder without raising his eyes.
"Ho, won't she?" said Jake. "I've seen her look at you more than once—and the old General too. Reckon they both thought you were throwing yourself away on Toby, and maybe they had some reason to think so. Anyway, she never was your sort. I seem to remember telling you so once."
"I was a fool," said Bunny, and then in a moment straightened himself and looked Jake in the eyes. "It wasn't Toby's fault," he said with abrupt generosity. "She didn't want to get engaged to me. I made her. I knew—all along—she wasn't very keen. But I thought I loved her enough to make it all right. I was wrong. I didn't."
"Beginning to know better?" suggested Jake, with a smile.
"Beginning to realize what a fool I've been," said Bunny ruefully. "You don't think I've done for myself then? Think I've still got a chance?"
"Sure thing!" said Jake. "But go carefully. You've got a fence or two to clear before you get home." He paused a moment, then gave him a kindly hand-grip. "Say, Bunny," he said, "there's nothing despicable about making a mistake. It's only when things go wrong and we don't play the game that there's anything to be ashamed of. I've always been ready to stake my last dollar that you'd never do that."
"Oh, man," Bunny said, in swift embarrassment, "that shows how much you know about me!"
Jake stooped to knock out the ashes of his pipe in the fender. "What I don't know about you, my son," he said, "ain't worth a donkey's bray, I reckon, so you can shut your mouth on that! I'm going back to Maud now. Any messages?"