"But—but I don't understand it at all. There was nothing amiss, was there, when I came away?"
"No, I suppose not; but a month or two ago, it must have been, the young fellow came post-haste, and quite unexpectedly, from the north, where he had been the last two years, and had a desperate quarrel with the girl. You haven't heard about it before, I suppose, Tincroft?" said Tom, interrupting himself, and looking keenly into his friend's face.
"Of course not, Grigson. How should I have known anything on the subject?" John wished to be told, wincing a little beneath Tom's inquisitive look.
"Ah, well, I don't know, I'm sure; but I am glad you have not heard of it before from any other quarter, for the truth is—I am rather loth to mention it, but the truth is (it all came out afterwards through Rubric, who told Dick all about it, and Dick told me) that you, John—there don't be alarmed, dear fellow—" for John began to show lively signs of astonishment, "that you had something to do with the quarrel."
And then, by cautious degrees, and tenderly (for Tom Grigson was a true-hearted friend), came out the whole story, much as I have told it.
"But don't take it to heart, Tincroft," added the good fellow; "Dick and I both thought it right you should know what has been talked about. But, of course, it is no fault of yours. If the poor girl has been silly, or her father stupid, or that Walter Wilson outrageously and madly jealous, you can't help it, you know. So think no more about it; I shouldn't if I were you."
"How can I help it?" asked John, sadly. "For it is my fault—it is all my fault. I see it now. But I must know more about it, Tom, if I can. The poor girl—poor Sarah; how does she take it?"
"Why, she is sadly enough, by all accounts. But no wonder, you see, considering the trouble that has fallen on the whole of them."
"And, Tom—tell me true, dear Tom—don't you think the young fellow, Walter Wilson, will come round again? Lovers' quarrels, you know, are said to be only the renewal, or revival, or something of the sort, of love. Not that I know anything about it; but don't you think he will come round again?" asked Tincroft.
"Why, how should I know?" responded Tom, laughing a little at John's earnestness. Then he added, "Nobody believes it will be, or can be made up. The fact is (it may as well come out), young Wilson has been crammed with so many stories, and is consequently so sure that you did make love to Mark's daughter, and that she encouraged you, on the principle of having two strings to a bow (in this affair I should say two beaux to her string), that he is determined never to speak to her again. At least, this is what I have heard."