"Of course," said Polly. "There always is. How did she get hold of him?"
Katharine shrank back into herself.
"You don't understand," she complained. "He isn't like that at all. He is clever, and refined, and very reserved. He doesn't flirt a bit, or anything of that sort."
"Oh, I see," said Polly, with her expressive sniff. "I suppose the other girl thought herself a toff, eh?"
"She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," said Katharine simply. "But I never knew he cared about that. He had views against marriage, he always said; and he wasn't always talking about women, like some men. I did not think he would end in marrying, just like every one else."
"More innocent you, then! I always said you ought to have stopped at home; girls like you generally do come the worst cropper. You surely didn't suppose he would go on for ever, and be content merely with your friendship, did you?"
"Yes, I did," said Katharine wearily. "Why not? I was content with his."
Polly gave vent to a stifled laugh.
"My dear, you're not a man," she said in a superior tone. It added considerably to the piquancy of the conversation that the subject was one on which she was a greater authority than her clever companion.
"But he really cared for me, I am certain he did," Katharine went on plaintively; and her eyes filled with tears again.