I understood exactly why he told me Boyd Madras's story: it was a warning.

He was not the man to harp on things.

He gave the hint, and there the matter ended, so far as he was concerned, until a time might come when he should think it his duty to refer to the subject again.

Some time before, he had shown me the portrait of the girl who had promised to be his wife.

She, of course, could trust HIM anywhere, everywhere.
Mrs.Falchion had seen the change in me, and, I am sure, guessed the new direction of my thoughts, and knew that I wished to take refuge in a new companionship--a thing, indeed, not easily to be achieved, as I felt now; for no girl of delicate and proud temper would complacently regard a hasty transference of attention from another to herself.