"There is no other girl,--never was and never will be," I protested. "What in the world do you mean, child?"
She looked at me with troubled eyes. "Katherine Thurston said that you said there was--someone."
"Oh!" I gasped. That foolish, forgotten incident of the locket! I felt myself blushing,--at least I had that grace.
"Let me explain, dear. When Mrs. Whyte introduced me to Miss Thurston, I thought she would be more willing to be friends if she were assured that I was not going to bother her with any love-making. So, just to make things pleasant, I showed her a miniature which I had in my pocket and told her that it was a picture of the only woman in the world to me."
"And wasn't that true?" she asked gravely.
"It was,--but it isn't true now. Darling, it was my mother's face,--the one I took out of this locket." I touched the jeweled trifle which lay upon her breast.
"Oh!" A look of terror came into her eyes, as though she drew back from an abyss. "Oh, and I might have married that man!"
"Jean! Did that have anything to do with it?"
"Why, I thought that, since I should never marry anyone else, it would be awfully selfish to refuse to save Gene," she said simply. "And if you were going to marry some strange person, why,--it didn't matter. That's what I thought."
"Oh, Jean, Jean!" I cried, taking her into my arms. What was the use of talking common-sense to a creature like that? I gave it up, and talked her own tongue instead! But after awhile she looked up under her lashes.