things that were pleasant for him to hear, such as Elizabeth's
heart was breaking (it was, as much as her kind of heart could break),
and I told him it was foolishness to ruin one's life because of a
misunderstanding, and that both had doubtless been in the wrong. And
incidentally I let drop that if, after years of preparation, I ever got
married I would have nothing to bring my husband but myself, as my
father had made up his mind that young people should make their own way
in life (he ought to have so made it up if he hasn't), and Whythe said
that cut no figure with him, and asked me point-blank if I did not love
him. It didn't sound polite to say no, and yet I couldn't truthfully
say yes, so I just sighed and shook my head. When he asked me if I
could give him no hope, I answered _no_ with such uncomplimentary
quickness that I had to cough to overcome it, and then I told him it
was impossible for a girl of Elizabeth's taste and training and
character, who had once loved such a man as he, to really care for any
one else. And the blackness in his face, caused by my unnecessary
emphasis, died out, and I saw he was agreeing with me concerning
Elizabeth, and that I would not have to insist on what I said being so.
A man's appetite for flattery is never poor, and usually it is hearty.
When we got up to go back to where lunch was being served Whythe had
quite a determined air about him. I told him if I could help in any
way to let me know. An hour later I saw him and Elizabeth going down
to the same stream and the same old willow tree.

When the time came to go home I pretended I had to see Florence Kensey
about something that was important, and in the confusion of getting the
people in the cars I managed to have Whythe put Elizabeth in his, and
told them to get away quick and I would come on with Mason Page. They
got. And the next day Elizabeth looked like some one who had been
unbandaged and was letting out breath that for a long time had been
held in. Also, she looked pinker and whiter than ever, and so Pure
that it was not possible for me to stay close to her, so I got away.
No longer Hurt and Misunderstood, she went about smiling in sweet
triumphantness that was not put in words, but oozed without them, and
her manner to me was one of deepest sympathy. Poor Whythe!

CHAPTER XXIV

There are some things not required of human nature to stand. Elizabeth
Hamilton Carter is one of them. I was glad to giv