houldn't have minded them, darling. They didn't
understand you. How could they? The brutes."

"Me? Oh, I wouldn't have minded _that_."

Tyson was frankly astonished. Apparently she had not a notion that she
had been the subject of any scurrilous reports at Drayton Parva or
elsewhere. From the first she had resented their social ostracism (when
she became aware of it) as an insult to him; and now, evidently she had
found the clue to the mysterious scandal in her knowledge of his conduct.
Before she could do that, in her own mind she must have accused him
gravely. And yet, but for this characteristic little inadvertence, he
would never have known it. How much did she know?

She went on a little incoherently; so many ideas cropped up to be
gathered instantly, and wreathed into the sequence of her thought.
"Mother said people would talk if I didn't take care. She thought Sir
Peter--poor old Sir Peter--do you remember his funny red face, and his
throat--all turkey's wattles?--because he said I was the prettiest woman
in Leicestershire. I don't see much harm in that, you know. Anyhow, he
can't very well do it again--now. _Perhaps_--she thought I oughtn't to
have gone about quite so much with Louis."

"Why did you, Molly? It was a mistake."

"I wonder--Well, it was all my fault."

"No; it was Stanistreet's. He knew what he was about."

"It was _mine_. I liked him."

"What did you see to like in him?" (He really had some curiosity on that
point.)

"I liked him because he was your friend--the best friend you ever had.
I hated the other men that used to come. And when you were away I felt
somehow as if--as if--he was all that was left of you. But that was
afterwards. I think I liked him first of all because he liked you."

"How do you know it was me he liked?"

"Oh, it was; I _know_. Whatever other people thought, he always
understood. Do you see? We used to talk about you, every day I think,
till just the last--and then, he knew what I was thinking. Then he was
sorry when baby died. I can never forget that."

(Inconceivable! Had she never for an instant understood? Ah, well, if
_he_ had been so transfigured in her sight, she might well idealize
Stanistreet.)

She went on impetuously, with inextricable confusion of persons and
events. "Nevill--I wasn't kind to him. They said I didn't care--and
I did--I did! It nearly broke my heart. Only I was afraid you'd think I
loved him better than you, and so--I didn't take a