If he blamed Waldron, he made no statement of that fact.

A man himself, and one who viewed man's weaknesses and woman's foibles with a cynic eye, he could judge motives and weigh actions with considerable skill.
"I see, I see," he commented, when Waldron had quite done, and had poured forth a highly false declaration of his great love for the girl and his determination that this rupture should not be permanent.

"I understand the case, I think.

It all seems an unfortunate accident--just one of those unavoidable incidents which strike into and upset human calculations, against all expectation.
"You're not terribly guilty, Waldron.

You acted inconsiderably.
Irritatingly, perhaps, and not wholly like a gentleman--for which, blame the rotten Scotch they _will_ persist in selling, out there at Longmeadow.