'About that money,' he began, 'I made a mistake.'
'Thank you,' Cuthbert answered, colouring again. 'I'd sooner you wouldn't say anything of that.'
Still grasping my father's hand, he went on—
'I know I've often vexed you, but you won't be troubled with me any longer, and we part good friends—don't we?' he ended with his frank, sweet smile.
'I'm sure I wish you good luck, lad.'
Cuthbert turned round to me.
It was the one gleam of comfort on that dark night, that those two were at peace together before Cuthbert went away.
The two troubles coming so quick one upon another seemed to have confused me. I wanted time to understand them. Every thought brought a fresh sting, and they kept thronging into my mind, shifting and changing strangely.
Only one thing was clear: I had lost Cuthbert and Hildred both at once. He had gone back to her now, for more last words. I was used to thinking of them as belonging to me. But they belonged to each other now, and I was nothing to them,—not much at least.
Cuthbert was going away to-morrow. A while ago that would have seemed hard enough, but harder still, the Hildred I loved, and who I had thought loved me, was gone already.