Or—
"Westfield, why don't you go more into company?"
Or—
"I really believe you are in love with Mrs. Miller."
Were laughing remarks often made by his friends, to which he always made some laughing answer; but no one dreamed of thinking his intimacy with Anna an improper one. He was looked upon as a warm friend of both her husband and herself, and inclined to be something of an "old bachelor." If she were seen at the theatre, or on the street, with Westfield, it was looked upon almost as much a matter of course as if she were with her husband. It is but fair to state, that the fact of his ever having been an avowed lover was not known, except to a very few. He had kept his own secret, and so had the object of his misplaced affection.
No suspicion had ever crossed the generous mind of Miller, although there were times when he felt that his friend was in the way, and wished that his visits might be less frequent and shorter. But such feelings were of rare occurrence. One day, about three years after his marriage, a friend said to him, half in jest, and half in earnest—
"Miller, a'n't you jealous of Westfield?"
"Oh yes—very jealous," he returned, in mock seriousness.
"I don't think I would like my wife's old flame to be quite as intimate with her as Westfield is with your wife."
"Perhaps I would be a little jealous if I believed him to be an old flame."