When am I to see her?" he said.

The old lady chuckled, crumpled her lids, and went through the
pantomime of archness. "Not today. One at a time, please. Madame
Olenska's gone out."

He flushed with disappointment, and she went on: "She's gone out, my
child: gone in my carriage to see Regina Beaufort."

She paused for this announcement to produce its effect. "That's what
she's reduced me to already. The day after she got here she put on her
best bonnet, and told me, as cool as a cucumber, that she was going to
call on Regina Beaufort. 'I don't know her; who is she?' says I.
'She's your grand-niece, and a most unhappy woman,' she says. 'She's
the wife of a scoundrel,' I answered. 'Well,' she says, 'and so am I,
and yet all my family want me to go back to him.' Well, that floored
me, and I let her go; and finally one day she said it was raining too
hard to go out on foot, and she wanted me to lend her my carriage.
'What for?' I asked her; and she said: 'To go and see cousin
Regina'--COUSIN! Now, my dear, I looked out of the window, and saw it
wasn't raining a drop; but I understood her, and I let her have the
carriage.... After all, Regina's a brave woman, and so is she; and
I've always liked courage above everything."

Archer bent down and pressed his lips on the little hand that still lay
on his.

"Eh--eh--eh! Whose hand did you think you were kissing, young
man--your wife's, I hope?" the old lady snapped out with her mocking
cackle; and as he rose to go she called out after him: "Give her her
Granny's love; but you'd better not say anything about our talk."

XXXI.

Archer had been stunned by old Catherine's news. It was only natural
that Madame Olenska should have hastened from Washington in response to
her grandmother's summons; but that she should have decided to remain
under her roof--especially now that Mrs. Mingott had almost regained
her health--was less easy to explain.

Archer was sure that Madame Olenska's decision had not been influenced
by the change in her financial situation. He knew the exact figure of
the small income which her husband had allowed her at their separation.
Without the addition of her grandmother's allowance it was hardly
enough to live on, in any sense known to the Mingott vocabulary; and
now that Medora Manson, who shared her life, had been ruined, such a
pittance would barely keep the two women clothed and fed. Yet Archer
was convinced that Madame Olenska