"Confess now!" said Callandar, smiling. "You thought I was the one to blame? There was retributive justice in your eye, don't deny it!"
"But, I don't understand! I thought—I was sure—"
"I know. But she doesn't! Not in that way. As a sister—"
"That's enough! I—Accept my apology. I feel very sorry, Henry."
Again that look of embarrassment and guilt upon the doctor's face.
"No. Don't feel sorry! See here, let's be frank about the whole thing. It was a mistake, from the very beginning, a mistake. Miss Sinnet, Lorna, is a girl in a thousand. But—I did not care for her as a man should care for the woman he makes his wife. Nor did she care for me—wait, I'm not denying that there was a chance. We were very congenial. She might have cared if—if I had cared more greatly."
"Henry Callandar! Are you a cad?"
"No. Merely a man speaking the exact truth. I thought I might risk it, with you. Lorna Sinnet is not a woman to give her love and take a half-love in return. She was more clear-sighted than you or I. We should both have been very miserable."
Elliott Willits sighed. He was a very sensible man. He prided himself upon being devoid of sentiment, but even the most sensible of men, entirely devoid of sentiment, do not like to see their well laid plans go wrong.
"Well," he said, "I was mistaken. Let us say no more about it."