"Well, what did you say to her?"

"Wouldn't you rather hear what she said to _me_?"

He smiled. "A good cross-examiner always gets the answers he wants. Let
me hear your side, and I shall know hers."

"I should say that applied only to stupid cross-examiners; or to those
who have stupid subjects to deal with. And Miss Brent is not stupid, you
know."

"Far from it! What else do you make out?"

"I make out that she's in possession."

"Here?"

"Don't look startled. Do you dislike her?"

"Heaven forbid--with those eyes! She has a wit of her own, too--and she
certainly makes things easier for Bessy."

"She guards her carefully, at any rate. I could find out nothing."

"About Bessy?"

"About the general situation."

"Including Miss Brent?"

Mrs. Ansell smiled faintly. "I made one little discovery about her."

"Well?"

"She's intimate with the new doctor."

"Wyant?" Mr. Langhope's interest dropped. "What of that? I believe she
knew him before."

"I daresay. It's of no special importance, except as giving us a
possible clue to her character. She strikes me as interesting and
mysterious."

Mr. Langhope smiled. "The things your imagination does for you!"

"It helps me to see that we may find Miss Brent useful as a friend."

"A friend?"

"An ally." She paused, as if searching for a word. "She may restore the
equilibrium."

Mr. Langhope's handsome face darkened. "Open Bessy's eyes to Amherst?
Damn him!" he said quietly.

Mrs. Ansell let the imprecation pass. "When was he last here?" she
asked.

"Five or six weeks ago--for one night. His only visit since she came
back from the Adirondacks."

"What do you think his motive is? He must know what he risks in losing
his hold on Bessy."

"His motive? With your eye for them, can you ask? A devouring ambition,
that's all! Haven't you noticed that, in all except the biggest minds,
ambition takes the form of wanting to command where one has had to obey?
Amherst has been made to toe the line at Westmore, and now he wants
Truscomb--yes, and Halford Gaines, too!--to do the same. That's the
secret of his servant-of-the-people pose--gad, I believe it's the whole
secret of his marriage! He's devouring my daughter's substance to pay
off an old score against the mills. He'll never rest till he has
Truscomb out, and some creature of his own in command--and then, _vogue
la galere_! If it were women, now," Mr. Langhope summed up impatiently,
"one could understand it