There was a pause.

“I thought for a time, Ken, that that girl was one of our kind—­risking far too much.  I’m not usually mistaken in blood, but—­the creature was a good counterfeit; I’m glad she’s gone.  Say what you will, we older women know the young man needs protection as well as the young women.”

“Oh!  Aunt Emily, cut it out!”

Raymond got up and stalked about.  This added to Mrs. Tweksbury’s uneasiness.

For days after that talk Raymond had his uncomfortable hours.  He wished he knew about the girl of the tea room.  It was “the girl” now.  If she were only unscathed the future would be safer for everyone.

But how could he—­Raymond was getting into the meshes—­how could he run to safety and happiness and forget, if he had really harmed, in any way, a girl who might have cared?  The difference between playing with fire and being burned by fire was clear now.

Had that hour, when the beast in him rampaged, killed forever the ideal she had had?  Was she saved by his madness?  Or had she been driven on the rocks?  If he only knew!

Raymond still had moments when he believed that the girl would materialize in his own safeguarded world.  He had seen a resemblance now and then that turned him cold, but when all was said and done there was no reason, no unforgivable reason, for him to exile himself from life.

And when he was in this state of mind, Cameron was like vinegar on a raw wound to him.  Cameron’s joyousness, born of indifference, passed for assurance based, as Raymond believed, on his asinine conceit.

“He takes Nancy for granted,” Raymond grumbled, “and he need not be too sure—­why, only last night——­”

Then Raymond recalled the look in Nancy’s eyes.

As a matter of fact, while Raymond was no better nor worse than the average young man visiting the marriage market, Nancy had selected him for worship and glorification.  He loomed high and then, suddenly, he loomed alone!

There is that in woman which selects for its own.  It is not merely the instinct of mating, it is choice, in the main, and makes either for success or failure—­but it always has its compensations in that vague, groping sense that calls for its own.  The world may look on wondering or dismayed, but the woman, under the crude exterior, clings to the ideal she sought.

With Nancy and Raymond conditions favoured the moment.  Nancy had a wide choice and she was radiantly happy.  Doris saw to it that the girl should see and hear the best of everything and be free to live her days unfettered.

Raymond had inherited the purest desires for family and home—­he had never seen them gratified in his parents’ life, so they still lay dormant in his heart.  Nancy presently awakened them and Cameron’s mistaken attitude drove them into action.

Raymond counted Nancy’s charms.  Her devotion to her aunt, her unselfish service while her twin sister followed her own devices, Doctor Martin’s very pronounced admiration, and Mrs. Tweksbury’s ardent affection all carried him along like favouring winds.  And presently the constant appearance of Cameron with Nancy lashed Raymond to the amazing conviction that he was in love!