CHAPTER XLVII

Owen and I left shortly afterwards. He was very quiet as we walked home, but when we were in bed he said to me, “I’ve decided to go back to town to-morrow.”

I heard the words with a thrill of mingled pleasure and misgiving. “To-morrow? Why?” I asked. “You must stay till the end of the week in any case.” Then something made me add, “Is it because I was rude to you this afternoon?”

“No.”

I thought for a little. “Has that nothing to do with it?” I persisted.

“No; at least, not directly. I may as well be quite frank about it. I know you would rather I went; that is my reason. I ought to have seen it before, but I didn’t, though I had a kind of feeling several times that there was something wrong. It is partly your own fault that I didn’t guess sooner. You always mentioned Katherine as if you were quite indifferent to her; and that first day you seemed even to hesitate about going to speak to her. I remember now what you told me on the night of our party, but until to-day I never connected it with her.”

“You think I’m jealous?” I said in a low voice.

“I know you are, but I didn’t know it until this afternoon. Don’t imagine I’m offended or any silly rot of that kind. There is no reason why I should be. Of course I should have liked it better if you had told me openly――but――well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t understand your feeling, but that doesn’t matter, either; if you have it, it is enough. I like Katherine, I like her very much, but, after all, it is you who are my friend.”

“She won’t want you to go,” I said miserably. At that moment I certainly preferred Owen to Katherine.

“She won’t mind very much, and I really can’t knock about with her brother. I hate the very sight of him.”

“Couldn’t we knock about by ourselves?”

“I’m afraid it would hardly do to drop them now.”

There was a silence.

“Owen?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“About anything. About your going away. About Katherine.”

“But when I’m away won’t it be all right?”

“No; it will be all wrong. I’ve been beastly to you as it is. And she doesn’t like me――I mean she only likes me middling――not even as much as she did――she told me so, this evening.”

“But you will have plenty of time to make it up.”

“It isn’t that――it isn’t that we’ve quarrelled. And the other――it is no use――it only irritates me. I wish I could explain. Things――things come into my mind.”

Owen was silent.

“And I’ve been beastly to you,” I went on.

“Oh, nonsense.”

He was silent again till he said, “There’s one way, but I know you won’t take it.”

“What is it?”

“Come back with me, and spend the rest of your holidays with me.”

I lay quiet.

“Will you?”

In the dark I shook my head. Then, remembering he could not see me, I answered, “No: I can’t.”

“Why not? It is only a matter of will.”

“But I haven’t any will, except to get what I want.”

“You could try it for a few days.”

“No. There are not a great many days altogether. They will be leaving before the end of the month.”

“Well, if you should change your mind, come at any time――I mean without bothering to write.”

“Very well.”

Owen was silent so long that I thought he had dropped asleep, when suddenly he spoke again.

“Peter?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know if you were asleep or not. It is this. I wrote to my people about you――about your having to go to lodgings when you come up to town after summer; and they want you to come to live with us.”

I felt myself grow hot with shame.

“You see there are plenty of bedrooms,” Owen went on, “and my study, I daresay, would do for both of us to work in. I hope you’ll come: they all want you to. If you think of it I’ll speak to your father; but of course if you’d rather be in ‘digs’ by yourself, it would be better for me not to mention it to him.”

“Do you really want me to come?” I asked.

“Of course I want you.”

“I mean, do you really and truly want me?”

He laughed pleasantly. “Of course I really and truly want you.”

“You’re not doing it out of kindness or anything like that?”

“The kindness will be all on your side.”

“No: but I mean it. You must tell me.”

“I suggested it because I’d like to have you. I wasn’t a bit sure whether you’d come or not. My reason for asking you is exactly the same as my reason for asking you every Sunday to come for a walk with me.”

“I’ll come,” I said. “Thanks awfully.” But my pleasure was spoiled by the remorse I felt for my own conduct as host. It seemed to me I was a fairly second-rate specimen of humanity, hardly good enough to be taken out and drowned.