Gussie could not understand this at all, but her spiteful remarks were so wide of the mark that they were only amusing.
She needed no one to tell her that Hugh was as much in love with Dexie as ever, yet why he allowed Guy Traverse to monopolize her was a mystery that was incomprehensible.
Hugh spent the last evening of his stay at the Sherwoods', and, in spite of Gussie's raillery, he was silent and sad; even Guy could not rouse him into cheerfulness.
During the evening he obtained a few minutes' conversation with Mr. Sherwood, and his low, earnest words brought a mist to the eyes of the sick man.
"I am truly sorry for your disappointment, Hugh," was the low reply, "but you prove beyond a doubt that her happiness is still dear to you when you propose to do such a thing. But wait awhile, and think it over. You may form other ties, and there may be others who will have a stronger claim on you than the wife of Guy Traverse. Oh, yes! yes! I know the money is your own, and you can do what you like with it, but Dexie would not approve of this, neither would Traverse."
A few minutes before it was time to leave for the train Guy came behind Hugh and whispered a few words in his ear, words that sent a flash of light and joy into his dark, sad face.
"God bless you, Traverse, for this kindness; I was getting desperate; five minutes will suffice," was the reply, and he slipped out of the room, crossed the hall, and a moment more was standing by Dexie's side.
"Traverse told me you were here, Dexie, and that I might come and say good-bye to you alone," and taking her hands in his own, added:
"Dexie, if there should come a time when you need a friend, or if you should ever be in trouble, will you promise to let me know and let me be the one to help you? You know how gladly I would serve you."