“But she wouldn’t rather have married me, would you, Mystic?”
“I can’t imagine it,” returned Tessa, as seriously as he had spoken. “Set your jealous heart at rest, Sue.”
“I never thought of it, but once in my life,” he continued, musingly, “and that was when I was down in the deeps about you, Susan; I did think that she might drag me out—a drowning man, you know, will catch at a straw. It was one night when she was weeding her pansies and refused to ride with me. I’m glad that you never did refuse me, Mystic, you couldn’t be setting there so composedly.”
“Oh, yes, I would; I should have known that you were insane.”
“I was insane—all one week.”
“I believe that,” said Sue.
“I wonder what we shall all be thinking about the next time that we three sit here together! It will be too late for us to go back then, Susan; the die will be cast, the Rubicon crossed, another poor man undone forever. Are you regretting it, child?” drawing her again towards him backward and gazing down into her face. “Shall we quit at this last last minute? Speak the word! You never shall throw it up at me, that I urged you into it. It will be a mess for us if we do hate each other after awhile.”
“I will never hate you, Gerald.”
“But I might hate you, though, who knows?” smoothing her hair with his graceful, weak hands.
“Then Tessa shall be peacemaker,” said Sue straightening herself.