She looked at him searchingly, as if she would read his very thoughts, while she awaited his answer.
“Forgotten! no, certainly not,” said Harry. “Nearly two years ago, was it not?”
“Yes, yes; I see that you remember,” cried Janet, with a tinge of sarcasm in her tones.
“Well!” said Harry, looking from one to the other in evident perplexity, for Patty’s eyes were fixed upon him anxiously, as if her happiness depended upon his answer.
“Well!” said Janet, scornfully, “do you remember?”
“You are speaking in riddles,” cried Harry, almost angrily, in his turn. “What does this mean? If you allude to my visit nearly two years since, with a brother student to his home—yes, I was there a week—a pleasant, happy week of home-life, such as I have seldom known.”
“Happy, no doubt,” said Janet, harshly.
There was a simple look of wonder and bewilderment in Harry’s face that directly disarmed suspicion, and the harsh aspect slowly faded from Janet’s countenance as the young man said calmly—
“Janet, I cannot understand what you would accuse me of; but it cannot be any falling away from my love for Patty; and as to being promised to another, I never till now spoke words of love to woman.”
The doubt and suspicion faded away still further, to leave poor Janet’s countenance almost sweet in its expression of loving sadness, as she turned away to whisper in her friend’s ear, and to kiss her fondly; and her eyes were suffused with tears, as she gently pressed back Patty’s clinging hands, and glided from the room.