"He was much—kinder—than—than I deserved," she murmured.
Scott's faint smile reappeared. "Perhaps he found it difficult to be anything else," he said.
She shook her head. "I wonder—how I came to make—such a dreadful mistake."
"It wasn't your fault," said Scott.
She looked at him quickly. "What makes you say that?"
He met her look gravely. "Because I know just how it happened," he said.
"You were neither of you in earnest in the first place. I am afraid I had
a hand in making Eustace propose to you. I was afraid—and so was
Isabel—you would be hurt by his trifling."
"And you interfered?" breathed Dinah.
He nodded. "Yes, I told him it must be one thing or the other. I wanted you to be happy. But instead of helping you, I landed you in this mess."
Something in his tone touched her. She laid a small shy hand upon his knee. "It was—dear of you, Scott," she said very earnestly. "Thank you—ever so much—for what you did."
He put his hand on hers. "My dear, I would have given all I had to have undone it afterwards. It is very generous of you to take it like that. I have often wanted to kick myself since."