Mrs. Maldon?" she defended herself. Her
foot tapped on the floor. She was obliged to defend herself, and
with care. Mrs. Maldon's tranquillity, self-control, immense age and
experience, superior deportment, extreme weakness, and the respect
which she inspired, compelled the girl to intrench warily, instead
of carrying off the scene in one stormy outburst of resentment as
theoretically she might have done.

Mrs. Maldon said, cajolingly, flatteringly--

"My dear, do be your sensible self and listen to me."

It then occurred to Rachel that during the last day or so (the period
seemed infinitely longer) she had been losing, not her common
sense, but her immediate command of that faculty, of which she was,
privately, very proud. And she braced her being, reaching up towards
her own conception of herself, towards the old invulnerable Rachel
Louisa Fleckring. At any cost she must keep her reputation for common
sense with Mrs. Maldon.

And so she set a watch on her gestures, and moderated her voice,
secretly yielding to the benevolence of the old lady, and said, in
the tone of a wise and kind woman of the world and an incarnation of
profound sagacity--

"What do I see of Mr. Fores, Mrs. Maldon? I see nothing of Mr. Fores,
or hardly. I'm your lady help, and he's your nephew--at least, he's
your great-nephew, and it's your house he comes to. I can't help being
in the house, can I? If you're thinking about last night, well, Mr.
Fores called to see how you were getting on, and I was just going out
to do some shopping. He walked down with me. I suppose I needn't tell
you I didn't ask him to walk down with me. He asked me. I couldn't
hardly say no, could I? And there were some parcels and he walked back
with me."

She felt so wise and so clever and the narrative seemed so entirely
natural, proper, and inevitable that she was tempted to continue--

"And supposing we _did_ go into a cinematograph for a minute or
two--what then?"

But she had no courage for the confession. As a wise woman she
perceived the advisability of letting well alone. Moreover, she hated
confessions, remorse, and gnashing of teeth.

And Mrs. Maldon regarded her worldly and mature air, with its touch of
polite condescension, as both comic and tragic, and thought sadly
of all the girl would have to go through before the air of mature
worldliness which she was now affecting could become natural to her.

"My dear," said Mrs. Maldon, "I have perfect confi