too--too new in my life, too precious--"

Again the voice wavered. How it thrilled and penetrated! Sir Wilfrid
found himself listening for every word.

"No," she resumed. "If it is a question of renouncing the friends I have
made in her house, or going--it will be going. That may as well be
quite clear."

Sir Wilfrid looked up.

"Let me ask you one question, mademoiselle."

"Certainly. Whatever you like."

"Have you ever had, have you now, any affection for Lady Henry?"

"Affection? I could have had plenty. Lady Henry is most interesting to
watch. It is magnificent, the struggles she makes with her infirmities."

Nothing could have been more agreeable than the modulation of these
words, the passage of the tone from a first note of surprise to its
grave and womanly close. Again, the same suggestions of veiled and
vibrating feeling. Sir Wilfrid's nascent dislike softened a little.

"After all," he said, with gentleness, "one must make allowance for old
age and weakness, mustn't one?"

"Oh, as to that, you can't say anything to me that I am not perpetually
saying to myself," was her somewhat impetuous reply. "Only there is a
point when ill-temper becomes not only tormenting to me but degrading to
herself.... Oh, if you only knew!"--the speaker drew an indignant
breath. "I can hardly bring myself to speak of such _miseres_. But
everything excites her, everything makes her jealous. It is a grievance
that I should have a new dress, that Mr. Montresor should send me an
order for the House of Commons, that Evelyn Crowborough should give me a
Christmas present. Last Christmas, Evelyn gave me these furs--she is the
only creature in London from whom I would accept a farthing or the value
of a farthing."

She paused, then rapidly threw him a question:

"Why, do you suppose, did I take it from her?"

"She is your kinswoman," said Wilfrid, quietly.

"Ah, you knew that! Well, then, mayn't Evelyn be kind to me, though I am
what I am? I reminded Lady Henry, but she only thought me a mean
parasite, sponging on a duchess for presents above my station. She said
things hardly to be forgiven. I was silent. But I have never ceased to
wear the furs."

With what imperious will did the thin shoulders straighten themselves
under the folds of chinchilla! The cloak became symbolic, a flag not to
be struck.

"I never answer back, please understand--never," she went on, hurriedly.
"You saw to-day how Lady Henry gave me her orders