Lady Gertrude’s face remained quite unchanged.  Only the steely gleam in her eyes hardened.

“When this hysterical outburst is quite over,” she said scathingly, “I shall be better able to talk to you.”

Nan made no answer.  It was all she could do to prevent herself from bursting into tears.

“Sit down again.”  Lady Gertrude pointed to a chair, and Nan, who felt her legs trembling under her, sat down obediently.  “You’re quite mistaken in thinking I don’t wish you to be Roger’s wife,” continued Lady Gertrude quietly.  “I do wish it.”

Nan glanced across at her in astonishment.  This was the last thing she had expected her to say—­irreconcilable with her whole attitude throughout the last two months.  Lady Gertrude returned the glance with one of faint amusement.  She could make a good guess at what the girl was thinking.

“I wish it,” she pursued, “because Roger wishes it.  I should like my son to have everything he wants.  To be perfectly frank, I don’t consider he has made a very suitable choice, but since he wants you—­why, he must have you.  No, don’t interrupt me, please”—­for Nan, quivering with indignation, was about to protest.  “When—­if ever you are a mother you will understand my point of view.  Roger has made his choice—­and of course he hasn’t the least idea how unsuitable a one it is.  Men rarely get beyond a pretty face.  So it devolves upon me to make you better fitted to be his wife than you are at present.”

The cold, dispassionate speech roused Nan to a fury of exasperation and revolt.  Evidently, in Lady Gertrude’s mind, Roger was the only person who mattered.  She herself was of the utmost unimportance except for the fact that he wanted her for his wife!  She felt as though she were a slave who had been bartered away to a new owner.

“You understand, now?”

Lady Gertrude’s clear, unmoved accents dropped like ice into the midst of her burning resentment.

“Yes, I do understand!” she exclaimed, in a voice that she hardly recognised as her own.  “And I think everything you’ve said is horrible!  If I thought Roger looked at things like that, I’d break our engagement to-morrow!  But he doesn’t—­I know he doesn’t.  It’s only you who think such hateful things.  And—­and I won’t stay here!  I—­I can’t!”

“It’s foolish to talk of breaking off your engagement,” returned Lady Gertrude composedly.  “Roger is not a man to be picked up and put down at any woman’s whim—­as you would find out if you tried to do it.”

Inwardly Nan felt bitterly conscious that this was true.  She didn’t believe for a moment that Roger would release her, however much she might implore him to.  And unless he himself released her, her pledge to him must stand.

“As to going away”—­Lady Gertrude was speaking again.  “Where would you go?”

“To the flat, of course.”

“Do you mean to the flat you used to share with Mrs. Fenton?”—­on a glacial note of incredulity.