That is more than I can say,' she returned pointedly. 'Have you and
Giles had a quarrel, Ursula? I thought that evening that you were the
best of friends, and that--' But here she hesitated, and her lovely eyes
seemed to ask for my confidence; but I could not speak even to Gladys of
such things, so I only answered, in a business-like tone,--

'It is true that your brother does not seem as friendly with me just now;
but I do not know how I have offended him. He has rather a peculiar
temper, as you have often told me: most likely I have gone against some
of his prejudices.' I felt I was answering Gladys in rather a reckless
fashion, but I could not bear even the touch of her sympathy on such a
wound. She looked much distressed at my reply.

'Oh no, you never offend Giles. He thinks far too much of you to let
any difference of opinion come between you. I see you do not wish me
to ask you, Ursula; but I must say one thing. If you want Giles to tell
you why he is hurt or distant with you,--why his manner is different, I
mean,--ask him plainly what Etta has been saying to him about you.'

I felt myself turning rather pale. 'Are you sure that Miss Darrell has
been talking about me, Gladys?'

'I have not heard her do so,' was the somewhat disappointing reply, for
I had hoped then that she had heard something. 'But I was quite as sure
of the fact as though my ears convicted her. I have only circumstantial
evidence again to offer you, but to my mind it is conclusive. You parted
friends that evening with Giles. Correct me if I am wrong.'

'Oh no; you are quite right. Your brother and I had no word of
disagreement.'

'No; he left the house radiant. When he returned, which was not for an
hour,--for he and Etta were out all that time in the garden, and they
sent Lady Betty in to finish her packing,--he was looking worried and
miserable, and shut himself up in his study. Since then he has been in
one of his taciturn, unsociable moods: nothing pleases him. He takes no
notice of us. Even Etta is scolded, but she bears it good-humouredly
and takes her revenge on me afterwards. A pleasant state of things,
Ursula!'

'Very,' I returned, sighing, for I thought this piece of evidence
conclusive enough.

'Now you will be good,' she went on, in a coaxing voice, 'and you will
ask Giles, like a reasonable woman, what Etta has been saying to him?'

'Indeed, I shall do no such thing,' I answered. And my cheek began to
flush. 'If your brot