The Goddess Girl
"Yes," George murmured. "It's not a pleasant thing for a man to see his girl drifting away from him, little by little; and to see all his plans for the future melting away like the morning dew. Is it?"
I regarded him sternly, but as he went on I saw that, as usual, he spoke in perfect simplicity and good faith. Georgie never dissembled.
"Before I went away," said I slowly, "you told me that being engaged to Anne was the very deuce. You said the worry of your engagement was driving you to an early grave. You said—"
"You needn't rake up the past." He flushed a little. "I've learnt to see things in a different light since then. A man does, you know."
"Oh, very often!" said I meekly. "And then, it's since Muggeridge has been trying to steal her affections—"
"It's the sort of thing a decent chap shouldn't do, don't you see?" he cried indignantly.
"I quite see," cried I, for indeed I was
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