In the goodness of his heart he tried to make it pleasant for them now; tried to remove the ill impression necessarily left by the general defeat; tried to be chatty, even tried to be gay.

But the responses were sickly, there was no starting any enthusiasm; he would give it up and quit--it was a day specially picked out and consecrated to failures.
But when Gwendolen rose up promptly and smiled a glad smile and said with thankfulness and blessing, "Must you go ?" it seemed cruel to desert, and he sat down again.
He was about to begin a remark when--when he didn't.

We have all been there.

He didn't know how he knew his concluding to stay longer had been a mistake, he merely knew it; and knew it for dead certain, too.

And so he bade goodnight, and went mooning out, wondering what he could have done that changed the atmosphere that way.