I should hope we are old friends enough
for that."
Gifford glanced at the worried face of the big, simple-minded sportsman,
more or less a child in his knowledge of the subtleties of human nature,
and as he did so his heart smote him.
"We are, and I hope we always shall be," he declared, grasping his hand.
"You are making too much of my unfortunate manner to-night, and I'm
sorry. With all my heart I congratulate you, and wish you every blessing
and all happiness."
There was an unmistakable ring of sincerity in his speech now, and,
without going aside to question its motive, as a more penetrating
mind might have done, Kelson accepted his friend's congratulations
without question.
"Thanks, old fellow," he responded, brightening as he returned the grasp
of Gifford's hand. "I was sure of your good wishes. You need not fear I
have made a mistake. Muriel is a thorough good sort, and we shall suit
each other down to the ground. We've every chance of happiness."
Before Gifford could reply there came a knock at the door. The
landlord entered.
"Beg your pardon, captain," he said, "I'm sorry to trouble you, but could
you tell me whether they are keeping up the Hunt Ball very late?"
"No, Mr.
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