“I am sorry too,” said John simply.
He stood there for a full minute, and there was silence between them, until at last the girl appeared to force herself to speak.
“Still, you are young, Mr. Steele, and this is a country of great opportunities, is it not?”
“I think it is,” said John, with a grin; “yes, it is generally understood to be a land of excellent chances, and, as you say, I am young, much younger than when I was in this room last time. I knew as a general proposition I was young, but I had no idea I was the infant I have found myself to be.”
As he spoke the girl drew herself up, and tried to assume an air of haughty indignation.
“If you are laughing at me,” she said, “I think it is very unkind.”
“I give you my word, Miss Beck, that I do not feel much like laughing, and least of all at you. I merely came in to bid you good-bye.”
He held out his hand, and she took it gingerly, at arm’s length, as it were.
“Good-bye,” she said, “and I wish you luck.”
“Thank you,” replied John simply.