“I thank you for your help,” she said, stiffly.
“Of course it's none of my business. I'm sorry he told me. But I wish you all happiness.”
She rose as if to go away. Then she stamped her foot and sat down. “My father ought to be muzzled!”
She realized that he might misinterpret her indignation, for he said: “I'm ashamed because I meddled in your affairs. But from what you saw to-day in my case, I felt that I ought to help others who are in the same trouble.”
“But my father has mistaken my—” She broke off in much confusion, not understanding the queer look he gave her. “I—I am glad my father is coming to his senses and will allow me to—to—marry the young man,” she stammered. “And now I think I may be allowed to say that I hope you may have the girl you love, some day. Would you like to have me talk to you about her—how dear and pretty I think she is?”
“No, it hurts! But I do want you to know, Miss Can-dage, that I'm not out fortune-hunting. I love her for herself—just herself—nothing more!”
“I know it must be so.”
“And I know that a young man you would choose is worthy of you. I told your father—”
“No matter. That hurts, too! We both understand. We'll leave it there!”
After the declaration of that truce they were frankly at ease and began to chat with friendly freedom. The dusk came shading into the west, the evening star dripped silver light.