“Look here, Hammond, I am awfully sorry I made such an ass of myself last night. I’m afraid I have given you a wrong impression about Victoria.” “No. Why should you say that?” Hammond replied in a tone of indifference. Mauleverer looked at him anxiously. “I’m afraid I have led you to think there was something between us, that she--well, in fact, that she cared about me.” Hammond gave a weary shrug. “What of it? What does it matter?” “It’s very decent of you to take it so well,” said the puzzled captain. “I was afraid that I might have unwittingly injured her in your mind.” “No, oh no; don’t think that. There was no hypocrisy about Lady Victoria, I can assure you. She didn’t pretend to be in love with me, and I didn’t pretend to be in love with her.” “You asked her to marry you,” observed the other, in a tone of remonstrance. “I know; I did it to please my constituents, as she was aware. A public man has to do that sort of thing.” “Surely you expected her to care for you in time?” “No; I merely expected her to canvass for me.” Mauleverer began to feel baffled by this cynical indifference. “You seem to take a very curious tone,” he said, after a moment. “Of course, you understand that, whatever feeling I may have had for her in the past, I shall never think of her again except as a cousin.” In spite of his own inward trouble, Hammond could not resist a smile at the honest captain’s efforts to plead against himself. He gave him an amused glance as he retorted: “I am afraid that is rather ambiguous. I have known cousins who were very much attached to each other.” “Hammond, do you doubt me when I tell you that from this moment Victoria will be perfectly indifferent to me?” “Well, you piled it on pretty strongly last night, you know. I can’t help thinking that you are rather more fond of her than you pretend. But there is no need to get excited about it; it makes no difference to me.” Mauleverer gazed at him in dismay. “Is that the way in which you speak about your future wife?” “No,” said Hammond, shaking his head decidedly. “Hammond, what does this mean? You say that my attachment to Victoria makes no difference to you, and yet you no longer wish to marry her?” “It means that I have made a mistake, and that I have to get out of it the best way I can.” “Old man, this is my doing. This is because of what I said to you last night.” “No.” Hammond became earnest for the first time. “I am very glad you said what you did, because if I had had the vanity to think that Lady Victoria cared twopence about me, you would have undeceived me. But the reason why I have determined not to marry her is not merely because I believe she loves you, but because I have discovered that I love another woman too well ever to marry any one besides.” “Great heavens! Is that it?” Mauleverer exclaimed. He recalled the scene of last night, and began dimly to understand it. Hammond proceeded to enlighten him.