nd her mouth. Hetta, at
the first moment, was almost dumbfounded by her beauty,--by that and by
her ease and exquisite self-possession. 'Miss Carbury,' she said with
that low, rich voice which in old days had charmed Paul almost as much
as her loveliness, 'I need not tell you how interested I am in seeing
you. May I not ask you to lay aside your veil, so that we may look at
each other fairly?' Hetta, dumbfounded, not knowing how to speak a
word, stood gazing at the woman when she had removed her veil. She had
had no personal description of Mrs Hurtle, but had expected something
very different from this! She had thought that the woman would be
coarse and big, with fine eyes and a bright colour. As it was they
were both of the same complexion, both dark, with hair nearly black,
with eyes of the same colour. Hetta thought of all that at the
moment,--but acknowledged to herself that she had no pretension to
beauty such as that which this woman owned. 'And so you have come to
see me,' said Mrs Hurtle. 'Sit down so that I may look at you. I am
glad that you have come to see me, Miss Carbury.'

'I am glad at any rate that you are not angry.'

'Why should I be angry? Had the idea been distasteful to me I should
have declined. I know not why, but it is a sort of pleasure to me to
see you. It is a poor time we women have,--is it not,--in becoming
playthings to men? So this Lothario that was once mine, is behaving
badly to you also. Is it so? He is no longer mine, and you may ask me
freely for aid, if there be any that I can give you. If he were an
American I should say that he had behaved badly to me;--but as he is an
Englishman perhaps it is different. Now tell me;--what can I do, or
what can I say?'

'He told me that you could tell me the truth.'

'What truth? I will certainly tell you nothing that is not true. You
have quarrelled with him too. It is not so?'

'Certainly I have quarrelled with him.'

'I am not curious;--but perhaps you had better tell me of that. I know
him so well that I can guess that he should give offence. He can be
full of youthful ardour one day, and cautious as old age itself the
next. But I do not suppose that there has been need for such caution
with you. What is it, Miss Carbury?'

Hetta found the telling of her story to be very difficult.

'Mrs Hurtle,' she said, 'I had never heard your name when he first
asked me to be his wife.'

'I dare say not. Why should he have told you anything of m