to know all about this woman," Patricia
began, in a level voice. "I have heard, of course, what everyone in
Lichfield whispers about you and Rudolph. I have even teased Rudolph
about it, but until to-day I had believed it was a lie."

"It is often a mistake to indulge in uncommon opinions," said Mrs.
Pendomer. "You get more fun and interest out of it, I don't deny, but
the bill, my dear, is unconscionable."

"So! you confess it!"

"My dear, and who am I to stand aside like a coward and see you make a
mountain of this boy-and-girl affair--an affair which Rudolph and I had
practically forgotten--oh, years ago!--until to-day? Why--why, you
_can't_ be jealous of me!" Mrs. Pendomer concluded, half-mockingly.

Patricia regarded her with deliberation.

In the windy sunlight, Mrs. Pendomer was a well-preserved woman, but,
unmistakably, preserved; moreover, there was a great deal of her, and
her nose was in need of a judicious application of powder, of which
there was a superfluity behind her ears. Was this the siren Patricia had
dreaded? Patricia clearly perceived that, whatever had been her
husband's relations with this woman, he had been manifestly entrapped
into the imbroglio--a victim to Mrs. Pendomer's inordinate love of
attention, which was, indeed, tolerably notorious; and Patricia's anger
against Rudolph Musgrave gave way to a rather contemptuous pity and a
half-maternal remorse for not having taken better care of him.

"No," answered Mrs. Pendomer, to her unspoken thought; "no woman could
be seriously jealous of me. Yes, I dare say, I am _passee_ and vain and
frivolous and--harmless. But," she added, meditatively, "you hate me,
just the same."

"My dear Mrs. Pendomer----" Patricia began, with cool courtesy; then
hesitated. "Yes," she conceded; "I dare say, it is unreasonable--but I
do hate you like the very old Nick."

"Why, then," spoke Mrs. Pendomer, with cheerfulness, "everything is as
it should be." She rose and smiled. "I am sorry to say I must be leaving
Matocton to-day; the Ullwethers are very pressing, and I really don't
know how to get out of paying them a visit----"

"So sorry to lose you," cooed Patricia; "but, of course, you know best.
I believe some very good people are visiting the Ullwethers nowadays?"
She extended the letters, blandly. "May I restore your property?" she
queried, with utmost gentleness.

"Thanks!" Clarice Pendomer took them, and kissed her hostess, not
without tenderness, on