“No,” Armstrong admitted, frankly, “I would not.”
“But which is more serious—a damage resulting from his ignorance or from your own?”
“Look here, Mr. Cartwright,” said Jack, laughingly, “you promised that there was fun ahead for us both. At present it seems to be mostly for you and our friends.”
“Who started the discussion?”
“Helen; but I admit my error in being drawn into it. I had not expected to be convicted upon my own evidence.”
Helen rose. “I must rescue my husband from the calamity I have brought upon him. Come, let us have our coffee in the garden.”
III
If one could have looked within Uncle Peabody’s room after the other guests had snuffed out their candles, he would have discovered its inmate seated beside the flickering light with an open letter in his hand. He had read it over many times since its receipt nearly three months earlier, announcing in Helen’s characteristic way her engagement and approaching marriage. No one else had ever come so closely into his life, and he felt a certain responsibility to satisfy himself that the girl had made no mistake in the important step which she had taken. Now that he had actually met her husband, he again perused the lines which had introduced his new nephew to him.