It was far more cruel of her than of his mother, for all she knew of the story had reached her by hearsay, whereas his mother had seen him, as he had seen himself, and his appearance might well have deceived any one but Doctor Routh. He did not ask himself whether he could ever forgive her, for he did not wish to hear in his heart the answer which seemed inevitable. As for loving her, or not loving her, he thought nothing about it at that moment. With him, too, as with her, love was in a state of suspended animation. It would have been sufficiently clear to any outsider acquainted with the circumstances that when the two met that evening, something unusual would probably occur. Katharine, indeed, believed that John would not appear at the dinner-party; but John, who firmly intended to be present, knew that Katharine was going, and he expected to be placed beside her. It was perfectly well known that they were in love with one another, and the least their greatest friends could do was to let them enjoy one another’s society. This may have been done partly as a matter of policy, for both were young enough and tactless enough to show their annoyance if they were separated when they chanced to be asked to sit at the same table. John looked forward to the coming evening with some curiosity, and without any timidity, but also without any anticipation of enjoyment. He was trying to imagine what the conversation would be like, when Frank Miner returned, beaming with enthusiasm, and glowing from his walk in the cold, wet air. He had been gone a long time. “Well?” asked John, as his friend came up to the fire, and held out his hands to it. “Very well--very well, indeed, thank you,” answered the latter, with a cheerful laugh. “I’ll bet you twenty-five cents to a gold watch that you can’t guess what’s happened--at Routh’s.” “Twenty-five cents--to a gold watch? Oh--I see. Thank you--the odds don’t tempt me. What did happen?” “I say--those were awfully good cigars of yours, Jack!” exclaimed Miner, by way of answer. “Haven’t you got another?” “There’s the box. Take them all. What happened?” “No--I’ll only take one--it would look like borrowing if I took two, and I can’t return them. Jack, there’s a lot of good blood knocking about in this family, do you know? I don’t mean about the cigars--I’m naturally a generous man when it comes to taking things I like. But the other thing. Do you know that somebody had been to Routh about making him write the letter, before I got there?” “What? To make him write it? Not Ham Bright? It would be like him--but how should he have known about Routh?” “No. It wasn’t Bright. Want to guess? Well--I’ll tell you. It was your mother, Jack. Nice of her, wasn’t it?” “My mother!” Ralston leaned forward and began to poke the logs about. He felt a curious sensation of gladness in the eyes, and weakness in the throat. “Tell me about it, Frank,” he added, in a rather thick voice.