He was quite calm and cool; apparently there was nothing on his mind, and he spoke of Eugene's visit as if it concerned him little. "I daresay you're surprised at all this," he continued, "but I can't talk about that now. It would upset me again. Beside, there's no time." "Why no time?" "I must go straight over and see her." "My dear Charley, are you set on going?" "Of course. I came for that purpose. You know how sorry I am we are rivals; but I agree with what you said--we needn't be enemies." "It wasn't that I meant. But you don't ask how I fared." "Well, I was expecting you would tell me, if there was anything to tell." "I went, you know, to ask her to be my wife." Stafford nodded. "Well, did you?" "No, not exactly." "I thought not." "I tried to--I mean I wasn't kept back by loyalty to you--you mustn't think that. But she wouldn't let me." "I thought she wouldn't." Eugene began to understand his state of mind. In another man such confidence would have made him angry; but he had only pity for Stafford. "I must try and make him understand," he thought. "Charley," he began, "I don't think you quite follow, and it's not very easy to explain. She didn't refuse me." "Well, no, if you didn't ask," said Stafford, with a slight smile. "And she didn't stop me in--in that way. Look here, old fellow; it's no use beating about the bush. I believe she means to have me." Stafford said nothing. "But I don't say that to put you off going, because I'm not sure. But I believe she does. And you ought to know what I think. I tell you all I know." "Do you tell me not to go?" "I can't do that. I only tell you what I believe." "She said nothing of the sort?" "No--nothing explicit." "Merely declined to listen?" "Yes--but in a way." "My dear Eugene, aren't you deceiving yourself?" "I think not. I think, you know, you're deceiving yourself." They looked at one another, and suddenly both men smiled. "I want to spare you," said Eugene; "but it sounds a little absurd." "The sooner I go the better," said Stafford. "I must tell you, old fellow, I go in confident hope. If I am wrong--" "Yes?" "Everything is over! Would you feel that?" Eugene was always honest with Stafford. He searched his heart. "I should be cut up," he said. "But no--not that." Stafford smiled sadly. "How I wish I could do things by halves!" he exclaimed. "You will come back?" "I'll leave a line for you as I go by. Whatever happens, you have treated me well." "Good-by, old man. I can't say good luck. When shall I see you?" "That depends," said Stafford. Eugene showed him the road to the Dower House, and he set out at a brisk walk. CHAPTER XIII. A Lover's Fate and a Friend's Counsel.