’I was not so much on my guard then as I am now, and, though I blamed Etta for much of the home unhappiness, I did not know all that I have learned since.  You have no idea, either, how fascinating and persuasive she can be:  her influence over Giles proves that.  Well, little by little she drew from me that I was not so indifferent to Mr. Cunliffe as she supposed, and that in a few months’ time he would speak to me again.

’She seemed very kind about it, and said over and over again how glad she was to hear this; and when I begged her not to hint at my changed feelings to Giles, she agreed at once, and I will do her the justice to own that she has kept her word in this.  Giles has not an idea of the truth.’

‘Nevertheless, I wish you had kept your own counsel, Gladys.’

’You could not wish it more than I do; but indeed I said very little.  I think my manner told her more than my words, for I cannot remember really saying anything tangible.  I knew she plied me with questions, and when I did not answer them she laughed and said that she knew.

’I have paid dearly for my want of caution, for I have been in bondage ever since.  My tacit admission that I cared for Mr. Cunliffe has given Etta a cruel hold over me; my thoughts do not seem my own.  She knows how to wound me:  one word from her makes me shrink into myself.  Sometimes I think she takes a pleasure in my secret misery,—­that she was only acting a part when she pretended to sympathise with me.  Oh, what a weak fool I have been, Ursula, to put myself in the power of such a woman!’

‘Poor Gladys!’ I said, kissing her; and she dashed away her indignant tear, and hurried on.

’Oh, let me finish all the miserable story.  There is not much to say, but that little is humiliating.  It was soon after this that I noticed a change in Mr. Cunliffe’s manner.  Scarcely perceptible at first, it became daily more marked.  He came less often, and when he came he scarcely spoke to me.  It was then that Etta began to torment me, and, under the garb of kindness, to say things that I could not bear.  She asked me if Mr. Cunliffe were not a little distant in his manners to me.  She did not wish to distress me, but there certainly was a change in him.  No, I must not trouble myself, but people were talking.  When a vicar was young and unmarried, and as fascinating as Mr. Cunliffe, people would talk.

’What did they say?  Ah, that was no matter, surely.  Well, if I would press her, two or three busybodies had hinted that a certain young lady, who should be nameless, was rather too eager in her pursuit of the vicar.

’"Such nonsense, Gladys, my dear,” she went on, as I remained dumb and sick at heart at such an imputation.  “Of course I told them it was only your enthusiasm for good works.  ’She meets him in her district and at the mothers’ meeting; and what can be the harm of that?’ I said to them.  ’And of course she cannot refuse to sing at the penny readings and people’s entertainments when she knows that she gives such pleasure to the poor people, and it is rather hard that she should be accused of wanting to display her fine voice.’  Oh, you may be sure that I took your part.  Of course it is a pity folks should believe such things, but I hope I made them properly ashamed of themselves.”