t,
for the wealth of Mrs. Gereth's certitude: the visit of the lady of
Waterbath appeared but half to explain it. "Is it permitted to be
surprised," Fleda deferentially asked, "at Mrs. Brigstock's thinking it
would help her to see you?"

"It's never permitted to be surprised at the aberrations of born fools,"
said Mrs. Gereth. "If a cow should try to calculate, that's the kind of
happy thought she'd have. Mrs. Brigstock came down to plead with me."

Fleda mused a moment. "That's what she came to do with _me_," she then
honestly returned. "But what did she expect to get of you, with your
opposition so marked from the first?"

"She didn't know I want _you_, my dear. It's a wonder, with all my
violence--the gross publicity I've given my desires. But she's as stupid
as an owl--she doesn't feel your charm."

Fleda felt herself flush slightly, but she tried to smile. "Did you tell
her all about it? Did you make her understand you want me?"

"For what do you take me? I wasn't such a donkey."

"So as not to aggravate Mona?" Fleda suggested.

"So as not to aggravate Mona, naturally. We've had a narrow course to
steer, but thank God we're at last in the open!"

"What do you call the open, Mrs. Gereth?" Fleda demanded. Then as the
other faltered: "Do you know where Mr. Owen is to-day?"

Mrs. Gereth stared. "Do you mean he's at Waterbath? Well, that's your
own affair. I can bear it if _you_ can."

"Wherever he is, I can bear it," Fleda said. "But I haven't the least
idea where he is."

"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" Mrs. Gereth broke out with a
change of note that showed how deep a passion underlay everything she
had said. The poor woman, catching her companion's hand, however, the
next moment, as if to retract something of this harshness, spoke more
patiently. "Don't you understand, Fleda, how immensely, how devotedly,
I've trusted you?" Her tone was indeed a supplication.

Fleda was infinitely shaken; she was silent a little. "Yes, I
understand. Did she go to you to complain of me?"

"She came to see what she could do. She had been tremendously upset, the
day before, by what had taken place at your father's, and she had posted
down to Ricks on the inspiration of the moment. She hadn't meant it on
leaving home; it was the sight of you closeted there with Owen that had
suddenly determined her. The whole story, she said, was written in your
two faces: she spoke as if she had never seen such an exhibition.