"after all you DO believe me! You recognise how benighted it would be
for your daughter not to feel that Fanny's bad."

"You're too tiresome, my dear man," Mrs. Brook returned, "with your
ridiculous simplifications. Fanny's NOT 'bad'; she's magnificently
good--in the sense of being generous and simple and true, too adorably
unaffected and without the least mesquinerie. She's a great calm silver
statue."

Mr. Cashmore showed, on this, something of the strength that comes from
the practice of public debate. "Then why are you glad your daughter
doesn't like her?"

Mrs. Brook smiled as with the sadness of having too much to triumph.
"Because I'm not, like Fanny, without mesquinerie. I'm not generous
and simple. I'm exaggeratedly anxious about Nanda. I care, in spite of
myself, for what people may say. Your wife doesn't--she towers above
them. I can be a shade less brave through the chance of my girl's not
happening to feel her as the rest of us do."

Mr. Cashmore too heavily followed. "To 'feel' her?"

Mrs. Brook floated over. "There would be in that case perhaps something
to hint to her not to shriek on the house-tops. When you say," she
continued, "that one admits, as regards Fanny, anything wrong, you
pervert dreadfully what one does freely grant--that she's a great
glorious pagan. It's a real relief to know such a type--it's like a
flash of insight into history. None the less if you ask me why then it
isn't all right for young things to 'shriek' as I say, I have my answer
perfectly ready." After which, as her visitor seemed not only too
reduced to doubt it, but too baffled to distinguish audibly, for his
credit, between resignation and admiration, she produced: "Because she's
purely instinctive. Her instincts are splendid--but it's terrific."

"That's all I ever maintained it to be!" Mr. Cashmore cried. "It IS
terrific."

"Well," his friend answered, "I'm watching her. We're all watching her.
It's like some great natural poetic thing--an Alpine sunrise or a big
high tide."

"You're amazing!" Mr. Cashmore laughed. "I'm watching her too."

"And I'm also watching YOU!" Mrs. Brook lucidly continued. "What I don't
for a moment believe is that her bills are paid by any one. It's MUCH
more probable," she sagaciously observed, "that they're not paid at
all."

"Oh well, if she can get on that way--!"

"There can't be a place in London," Mrs. Brook pursued, "where they're
not delighted to dress such a woman. She sh