"Look here, Dick, you needn't conceal the truth from me, old fellow.
Mary Blain has attracted you, and you are throwing Lil over on her
account."
"Rubbish!" he laughed. "Mary's a nice girl, but as for loving her--"
and he shrugged his shoulders without concluding his sentence.
Notwithstanding this protest, however, I felt convinced that I had
guessed aright, and regretted, because I knew how well Lily loved him,
and what a blow it would be to her. She and I had been good friends
always, and I liked her, for she was demure, modest, and withal
dignified, even though she were but a shop assistant.
"Well, is it really fair to Lily?" I suggested, after a rather painful
pause.
"You surely wouldn't advise me to tie myself to a girl I don't love?" he
protested, rather hastily. "You are a fellow with lots of common sense,
Frank, and your advice I'd follow before that of any chap I know, but
here you're a bit wide of the mark, I think."
"Thanks for the compliment, old fellow," I responded. "Of course it
isn't for me to interfere in your private affairs, but all I advise in
this matter is a little hesitation before decision."
"It's useless," he said. "I've already decided."
"To give up Lily?"
"I have given her up. I told her to-night that I shouldn't see her
again."
"You did!" I exclaimed, looking at him in surprise. I could not
understand this sudden change of his. A few hours before he had been
full of Lil's praises, telling me how charming she could be in
conversation, and declaring that he loved her very dearly. It was more
than remarkable.
"Yes," he said. "You know that I can't bear to beat about the bush, so
I resolved to tell her the truth. She'd have to know it some day, and
better at once than later on."
"Well, all I can say is that you're a confounded brute," I exclaimed
plainly.
"I know I am," he admitted. "That's the worst of it. I'm too deuced
outspoken. Any other chap would have simply left her and ended it by
letter. I, however, put the matter to her philosophically."
"And how did she take it?"
His lips compressed for an instant as his eyes met mine.
"Badly," he answered in a low voice. "Tears, protestations of love, and
quite a scene. Fortunately we were alone together in the train. I got
out with her at the _Elephant and Castle_, and took her home."
"Did you see her father?"
"No. And don't want to. He's no good--the ugly old sinner."
"Why?" I inquired quickly, wondering how much he knew.