Fleda, meanwhile, had had time to make her reflections, which were moreover the continued throb of those that had occupied the interval between Owen's departure and his mother's return. If she should now repeat his words, this wouldn't at all play the game of her definite vow; it would only play the game of her little gagged and blinded desire. She could calculate well enough the effect of telling Mrs. Gereth how she had had it from Owen's troubled lips that Mona was only waiting for the restitution and would do nothing without it. The thing was to obtain the restitution without imparting that knowledge. The only way, also, not to impart it was not to tell any truth at all about it; and the only way to meet this last condition was to reply to her companion, as she presently did: "He told me nothing whatever: he didn't touch on the subject." "Painful?" Mrs. Gereth stared. "What pain can I ever feel again?"!

"What do you want of him," Fleda sadly asked, "feeling as you do to both of us?" Fleda's surprise at this aberration left her a moment looking at him. "Do you mean your marriage is off?"

At this, opening her eyes, Mrs. Gereth sprang straight up. "Get him away from her!" "Why so? It will be always so much done," said Fleda. "Though I'm poor," she added with a smile, "I don't mind the shilling." Fleda hesitated. "Did you see her?"