“It is rather a difficult thing for a man to say, Katie, and it is only because I was really ignorant and wholly innocent in the affair that I can tell you at all. I am very much afraid that, without the slightest intention on my part, I have made a very dear, good girl unhappy.”
“Yes, dear, Alice Heathcote; Fred says, and he was certainly quite in earnest about it, that my uncle's anger is caused by his disappointment at my not marrying Alice. He says my uncle has harped upon the subject until he thinks with me that his brain has gone a little wrong. But the worst of it is, he is convinced that Alice—well, it seems absurd, Katie—did love me, and that my uncle's indignation and anger are upon her account.”
“You are sure, quite sure, Frank, that you never made love to her?”
“Quite sure, you jealous little thing. I always liked her, Kate, just as I might like a sister. I never had the slightest idea of making love to her. I would tell you if I had, dear, for I do not want to have any secrets from you. She, no doubt, misinterpreted my manner, and her uncle having made up his mind I was to marry her, led her into the mistake. She has been poorly for some time, Katie, and I am really afraid it is from that. It is very absurd, of course.”
“I am really very sorry, Frank,” Katie said, feeling that Frank was speaking the whole truth, and that she could afford to be magnanimous, “but what is to be done? I am afraid it is too late for me to give you up now.”
“You are a goose, Katie. But be serious, and give me your opinion. What is to be done?”
“The only thing which I can suggest, Frank, is for me to go to her and say that I am sorry the mistake has occurred, and that I will go back to Staffordshire again, and let you do as you like.”
Katie had never seen Miss Heathcote; nevertheless, from what Frank had told her of their early life together, she had somehow intuitively felt her to be a rival, and now, like a true woman, could not help a little enjoyment of her triumph.
“Very well, Katie, if that is the way you look upon it, we will not discuss the matter any farther.”
Frank was really hurt, and he spoke coldly, as he had never spoken to his wife before.
“No, no, Frank!” she said, throwing her arm round his neck as he was rising from his chair. “I am wrong, dear, I am very wrong; but you know I am a wild little thing; don't be angry with me, darling. It was natural, you know, that I should be a little jealous of other people loving my Frank as I love him. But I quite believe what you say, and am really very sorry for Miss Heathcote. I can fancy how unhappy she must be. She is very nice, isn't she?”