"I thought so myself," he replied, evidently relieved. It did not seem necessary to tell him of Rosalind at Red Gate; that was my secret, and I was not yet ready to share it.
"I've got to talk to somebody, and I want to tell you something, Donovan. I can't deny that there are times when Helen doesn't seem—well, all that I have thought her at other times. Sometimes she seems selfish and hard, and all that. And I know she hasn't treated Miss Pat right; it isn't square for her to take Miss Pat's bounty and then work against her. But I make allowances, Donovan."
"Of course," I acquiesced, wishing to cheer him. "So do I. She has been hard put in this business. And a man's love can't always be at par—or a woman's either! The only thing a man ought to exact of the woman he marries is that she put up a cheerful breakfast-table. Nothing else counts very much. Start the day right, hand him his gloves and a kind word at the front door as he sallies forth to the day's battle, and constancy and devotion will be her reward. I have spoken words of wisdom. Harken, O Chief Button-maker of the World!"
The chiming of the bells beyond the Glenarm wall caused him to lift his head defiantly. I knew what was in his mind. He was in love—or thought he was, which has been said to be the same thing—and he wanted to see the girl he loved; and I resolved to aid him in the matter. I have done some mischief in my life, but real evil I have, I hope, never done. It occurred to me now that I might do a little good. And for justification I reasoned that I was already so deep in the affairs of other people that a little further plunge could do no particular harm.
"You think her rarely beautiful, don't you, Buttons?"
"She is the most beautiful woman in the world!" he exclaimed.
"The type is not without charm. Every man has his ideal in the way of a type. I will admit that her type is rare," I remarked with condescension.
"Rare!" he shouted. "Rare! You speak of her, Irishman, as though she were a mummy or a gargoyle or—or—"
"No; I should hardly say that. But there are always others."
"There are no others—not another one to compare with her! You are positively brutal when you speak of that girl. You should at least be just to her; a blind man could feel her beauty even if he couldn't see!"