and gobbled to the near neighbourhood of
positive incoherence, while admitting, and trying to avoid admitting, how
inconveniently ignorant of precise details she herself was.

"Perhaps I erred in not more firmly insisting upon an immediate enquiry,"
she said. "But, at the time, alarm appeared so totally uncalled for. I
assumed, from what was told me, and from my knowledge of the strength of
Damaris' constitution, that a night's rest would fully restore her to her
usual robust state of health, and so deferred my enquiry. The servants
were excited and upset, so I felt their account might be misleading--all
they said was so confused, so far from explicit. My position was most
difficult, Sir Charles," she assured him and incidentally, also, assured
herself. "I encountered most trying opposition, which made me feel it
would be wiser to wait until this morning. By then, I hoped, the maids
would have had time to recollect themselves and recollect what is
becoming towards their superiors in the way of obedience and respect."

Charles Verity threw back his head with a movement of impatience, and
looked down at her from under his eyelids--in effect weary and a
little insolent.

"We seem to be at cross purposes, Miss Bilson," he said. "You do not, I
think quite follow my question. I did not ask for the servants' account
of the events of yesterday--whatever those events may have been--but for
your own."

"Ah! it is so unfortunate, so exceedingly unfortunate," Theresa broke
out, literally wringing her hands, "but a contingency, an accident, which
I could not possibly have foreseen--I cannot but blame Damaris, Sir
Charles"--

"Indeed?" he said.

"No, truly I cannot but blame her for wilfulness. If she had
consented--as I so affectionately urged--to join the choir treat to
Harchester, this painful incident would have been spared us."

"Am I to understand that you went to Harchester, leaving my daughter
here alone?"

"Her going would have given so much pleasure in the parish," Theresa
pursued, dodging the question with the ingenuity of one who scents mortal
danger. "Her refusal would, I knew, cause sincere disappointment. I could
not bring myself to accentuate that disappointment. Not that I, of
course, am of any importance save as coming from this house, as--as--in
some degree your delegate, Sir Charles."

"Indeed?" he said.

"Yes, indeed," Theresa almost hysterically repeated.

For here--if anywhere--was her chance, as