“Ah, that’s not for me to imagine, and I should be very sorry to have to try to say!  I’m aware of no point whatever at which I may have failed you,” said Charlotte; “nor of any at which I may have failed any one in whom I can suppose you sufficiently interested to care.  If I’ve been guilty of some fault I’ve committed it all unconsciously, and am only anxious to hear from you honestly about it.  But if I’ve been mistaken as to what I speak of—­the difference, more and more marked, as I’ve thought, in all your manner to me—­why, obviously, so much the better.  No form of correction received from you could give me greater satisfaction.”

She spoke, it struck her companion, with rising, with extraordinary ease; as if hearing herself say it all, besides seeing the way it was listened to, helped her from point to point.  She saw she was right—­that this was the tone for her to take and the thing for her to do, the thing as to which she was probably feeling that she had in advance, in her delays and uncertainties, much exaggerated the difficulty.  The difficulty was small, and it grew smaller as her adversary continued to shrink; she was not only doing as she wanted, but had by this time effectively done it and hung it up.  All of which but deepened Maggie’s sense of the sharp and simple need, now, of seeing her through to the end. “‘If’ you’ve been mistaken, you say?”—­and the Princess but barely faltered.  “You have been mistaken.”

Charlotte looked at her splendidly hard.  “You’re perfectly sure it’s all my mistake?”

“All I can say is that you’ve received a false impression.”

“Ah then—­so much the better!  From the moment I had received it I knew I must sooner or later speak of it—­for that, you see, is, systematically, my way.  And now,” Charlotte added, “you make me glad I’ve spoken.  I thank you very much.”

It was strange how for Maggie too, with this, the difficulty seemed to sink.  Her companion’s acceptance of her denial was like a general pledge not to keep things any worse for her than they essentially had to be; it positively helped her to build up her falsehood—­to which, accordingly, she contributed another block.  “I’ve affected you evidently—­quite accidentally—­in some way of which I’ve been all unaware.  I’ve not felt at any time that you’ve wronged me.”

“How could I come within a mile,” Charlotte inquired, “of such a possibility?”

Maggie, with her eyes on her more easily now, made no attempt to say; she said, after a little, something more to the present point.  “I accuse you—­I accuse you of nothing.”

“Ah, that’s lucky!”