"Chydister, if you lose that woman it is your own fault."
"Well, no, I can hardly agree with you there, father. If I lose her it will be the fault of circumstances. Are you done with me?"
"Yes, you can go," said the General. He stooped, reached back for the lounge and laboriously stretched himself upon it. Chyd went out and I remarked that it was time for me to go. The old man made no reply, seeming not to have heard me, but as I turned toward the door he raised up and said:
"I would be a fool, sir, to blame you; and I trust that you will not blame me for hoping that you are mistaken."
He lay down again, and I left him. Millie was standing at the gate when I went out, and she pretended not to see me until I had passed into the road, and then, with the manner of a surprise, she said: "Oh, I didn't think you were going so soon—thought you and father were having an argument. Do you see—see him very often?"
There was a tremulous tenderness in her voice, and I knew that there were tears in her eyes, and I looked far away down the road, as I stood there with the gate between us.
"I have seen him every day," I answered.
"And does he look wretched and heart-broken?"
"No, he is happy, for he knows that you love him."
She caught her breath with a sob and I looked far away down the road.