"Perhaps he had other reasons."

"What do you mean?" said Gray, facing the consul suddenly.

"Look here, Gray," said the consul, "did Miss Callender or her father
ever tell you she was engaged?"

"Yes; but what's that to do with it?"

"A good deal. Engagements, you know, are sometimes forced, unsuitable,
or unequal, and are broken by circumstances. Callender is proud."

Gray turned upon the consul the same look of gravity that he had worn
on the yacht--the same look that the consul even fancied he had seen
in Ailsa's eyes. "That's exactly where you're mistaken in her," he said
slowly. "A girl like that gives her word and keeps it. She waits, hopes,
accepts what may come--breaks her heart, if you will, but not her word.
Come, let's talk of something else. How did he--that man Gow--lose
Callender's money?"

The consul did not see the Callenders again on his return, and perhaps
did not think it necessary to report the meeting. But one morning he
was delighted to find an official document from New York upon his desk,
asking him to communicate with David Callender of St. Kentigern, and,
on proof of his identity, giving him authority to draw the sum of five
thousand dollars damages awarded for the loss of certain property on
the Skyscraper, at the request of James Gow. Yet it was with mixed
sensations that the consul sought the little shop of the optician with
this convincing proof of Gow's faithfulness and the indissolubility of
Ailsa's engagement. That there was some sad understanding between the