“On the contrary, I received my whole idea of this from you.  Nothing that I said to others about him was quite so bad as what you said to me; for you knew the real reason of your discarding him, and the reason was so bad—­or so good—­that you could not even confide it to me, your natural confidant.  You remember saying that we must drop him from the list of our acquaintances, must not receive him at the house, or recognize him in society, or speak, to him in public.  I protested that this would be very unjust to him, and that he might ask me at least the grounds for so insulting him; you assured me that he would never dare ask.  And now you affect to be displeased with me for believing what you said, and trying to defend you from criticism, and trying to protect the good name of the family.”

“Ah,” cried Isabel, “you can give fair reasons for foul deeds.  You always could.  We often do, we women.  The blacker our conduct, the better the names with which we cover it.  If you would only glory openly in what you have done and stand by it!  Not a word of what you have said is true, as you have said it.  When I left home not a human being but yourself knew that there had been trouble between Rowan and me.  It need never have become public, had you let the matter be as I asked you to do, and as you solemnly promised that you would.  It is you who have deliberately made the trouble and scattered the gossip and spread the scandal.  Why do you not avow that your motive was revenge, and that your passion was not justice, but malice.  Ah, you are too deep a woman to try to seem so shallow!”

“Can I be of any further service to you?” said Mrs. Conyers with perfect politeness, rising.  “I am sorry that the hour of my engagement has come.  Are you to be in town long?”

“I shall be here until I have undone what you have done,” cried Isabel, rising also and shaking with rage.  “The decencies of life compel me to shield you still, and for that reason I shall stay in this house.  I am not obliged to ask this as a privilege; it is my right.”

“Then I shall have the pleasure of seeing you often.”

Isabel went up to her room as usual and summoned her maid, and ordered her carriage to be ready in half an hour.

Half an hour later she came down and drove to the Hardages’.  She showed no pleasure in seeing him again, and he no surprise in seeing her.

“I have been expecting you,” he said; “I thought you would be brought back by all this.”

“Then you have heard what they are saying about Rowan?”

“I suppose we have all heard,” he replied, looking at her sorrowfully.

“You have not believed these things?”

“I have denied them as far as I could.  I should have denied that anything had occurred; but you remember I could not do that after what you told me.  You said something had occurred.”

“Yes, I know,” she said.  “But you now have my authority at least to say that these things are not true.  What I planned for the best has been misused and turned against him and against me.  Have you seen him?”