“And she has been complaining to you, and that is the reason why you are lecturing me, and making the night hideous with your highly moral and excellent advice. Give it up, George. It is of no use. I am bad by nature.”
George was silent for a few minutes. It was clear that if he meant to see Constance from time to time in future matters must be established upon a permanent basis of some sort.
“Mamie,” he said at last, “let us be serious. Are you really as fond of me as you seem to be? Will you do something, not to please me, but to help me?”
“Provided it is easy and I like to do it!” Mamie laughed. “Of course I will, George,” she added a moment later in a serious tone.
“Very well. It is this. Forget, or pretend to forget, that there is such a person as Miss Fearing in the world. Or else go and see her and be as good and charming as you know how to be.”
“You give me my choice? I may do either?”
“It will help me if you will do either. I cannot hear her spoken of unkindly, and I cannot see her treated as you treated her the other day, without the shadow of a cause.”
“I think there is cause enough, considering how she treated you. Oh, yes, I know what you will say—that there never was any engagement, and all the rest of it. It is very honourable of you, and I admire you men much for putting it in that way. But we all knew, and it is of no use to deny it, you know.”
“You do not believe me? I give you my word of honour that there was no engagement. Do you understand? I made a fool of myself, and when I came to put the question I was disappointed. She was as free to refuse me as you are now, if I asked you to marry me. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” said Mamie in a rather unnatural tone. “Since you give me your word, it is a different thing. I have been mistaken. I am very sorry.”