“But it was so nice when it was over!” This time the little laugh was genuine. “I’d go through it all again, just to see your face when you found out that you’d been mistaken—and afterwards, when we sat behind the piano at the Van De Waters’—do you remember? Oh, yes! I’d like to have it all over again.”
“Jack—you’re an angel, dear! But don’t talk about that night. I suppose, though, that those things have helped to bind us together and make us more each other’s. Yes—of course they have. And then—we’re such good friends, you know. Doesn’t that make a difference? I’m sure there are people who care very much, but who are never good friends. Look at papa and my mother. They’re like that. They’re not at all good friends. They never tell each other anything if they can help it. But they care all the same. We could never be like that together, could we? Jack—where does friendship end and love begin?”
“What a beautiful question!” exclaimed Ralston, very much amused. “Of all the impossible ones to answer!”
“I know it is. I’ve often wondered about it. You know, I can’t at all remember when I began to care for you in this way. Can you? It must have been ever so long ago, before we ever said anything—because, when we did, it seemed quite natural, you know. And it always grows. It goes on growing like a thing that’s planted in good earth and that has lots of life in it and is going to last forever. But it really does grow. I know that I’m ever so much more glad to see you when we meet now than I was a month ago. If it goes on like this I don’t know where it’s going to end. Hester and her husband won’t be anywhere, compared with us, will they?”
“They’re not, as it is. They’re quite different. When they’re old, they’ll quarrel—if not sooner.”
“Oh, Jack—I don’t believe it’s quite fair to say that!”
“Well—wait and see. We’re warranted to wear, you and I. They’re not. There’s no staying power in that sort of thing. Not but what they’re in earnest. Even Crowdie is, though he’s half in love with you, at the same time.”
“I wish you wouldn’t keep saying that,” said Katharine. “It makes me feel so uncomfortable when we meet. Besides, it’s absurd, as I told you. A man can’t be madly in love with his wife and care for any one else at the same time.”
“That depends on the man—and the way of caring,” answered Ralston. “Crowdie’s a brute. I hate him. The only thing I can’t understand about Griggs is his liking for the man. It’s incomprehensible to me.”
“I don’t think Mr. Griggs really likes him,” said Katharine. “There’s a mystery about it. But I’m almost sure he doesn’t really like him. I believe he thinks he’s responsible for Crowdie in some way. They knew each other long ago.”