Fleda shook her head wearily. "No—I was only in love with him!" "Well, those things are between yourselves, and you seem to me both poor creatures at best." Mrs. Gereth spoke with a rich humor which tipped with light for an instant a real conviction. "I don't know what you've got in your veins: you absurdly exaggerated the difficulties. But enough is as good as a feast, and when once I get you abroad together—!" She checked herself as if from excess of meaning; what might happen when she should get them abroad together was to be gathered only from the way she slowly rubbed her hands.!

"Why, Mona's much worse than her mother. She wants much more to give me up." "About its being her that thinks she has gone too far." This was still slightly obscure, but now Fleda understood. "It mustn't seem to come from her at all, don't you know? That would only make Mummy worse."

"Quite proper," said Mrs. Gereth austerely. Then to Fleda: "Please go to him." "You had none," said Mrs. Gereth: "you were completely bewildered." "Mine?" Fleda looked vague.