‘As fond as one can possibly be who has had so little opportunity,’ he said.
‘I was hoping to have a ride with her and Clara the very evening when that miserable affair occurred. The loss of that ride was at least as great a disappointment to me as the loss of the sword.’
‘You seem to like my sister, Wilfrid,’ he said.
‘At least I care more for her good opinion than I do for any woman’s—or man’s either, Charley.’
‘I am so glad!’ he responded. ‘You like her better than Clara, then?’
‘Ever so much,’ I said.
He looked more pleased than annoyed, I thought—certainly neither the one nor the other entirely. His eyes sparkled, but there was a flicker of darkness about his forehead.
‘I am very glad,’ he said again, after a moment’s pause. ‘I thought—I was afraid—I had fancied sometimes—you were still a little in love with Clara.’
‘Not one atom,’ I returned. ‘She cured me of that quite. There is no danger of that any more,’ I added—foolishly, seeing I intended no explanation.
‘How do you mean?’ he asked, a little uneasily.