Not unnaturally this struck Jessica as far-fetched.  She argued against it, and became petulant.  Nancy lost patience, but remembered in time that she was at Jessica’s mercy, and, to her mortification, had to adopt a coaxing, almost a suppliant, tone, with the result that Miss.  Morgan’s overweening conceit was flattered into arrogance.  Her sentimental protestations became strangely mixed with a self-assertiveness very galling to Nancy’s pride.  Without the slightest apparent cause for ill-humour, she said one day: 

’I do feel sorry for you; it must be a dreadful thing to have married a man who has no sense of honour.’

Nancy fired up.

‘What do you mean?’

’How can he have, when he makes you deceive people in this way for the sake of the money he’ll get?’

‘He doesn’t!  It’s my own choice.’

‘Then he oughtn’t let you do it.  No honourable man would.’

‘That has nothing to do with you,’ Nancy exclaimed, anger blanching her cheek.  ’Please don’t talk about my husband.  You say things you ought to be ashamed of.’

‘Oh, don’t be angry!’ The facile tears started in Jessica’s eyes.  ‘It’s because I feel indignant on your account, dear.’

’I don’t want your indignation.  Never mention this subject again, or I shall feel sure you do it on purpose to annoy me.’

Jessica melted into mawkishness; none the less, Nancy felt a slave to her former friend, who, for whatever reason, seemed to have grown hypocritical and spiteful.  When next the girl called, she was told that Miss.  Lord had left home for the day, a fiction which spared Nancy an hour’s torment.  Miss.  Morgan made up for it by coming very early on the next Sunday afternoon, and preparing herself avowedly for a stay until late in the evening.  Resolute to avoid a long tete-a-tete, which was sure to exasperate her temper, Nancy kept Mary in the room, and listened to no hint from Jessica that they should retire for the accustomed privacy.

At four o’clock they were joined by Samuel Barmby, whom, for once, Nancy welcomed with pleasure.  Samuel, who had come in the hope of finding Miss.  Lord alone, gave but the coldest attention to Jessica; Mary, however, he greeted with grave courtesy, addressing to her several remarks which were meant as a recognition of social equality in the quondam servant.  He was dressed with elaborate care.  Snowy cuffs concealed half his hands; his moustache, of late in training, sketched the graceful curl it would presently achieve; a faint perfume attended the drawing forth of his silk handkerchief.

Samuel never lacked a subject for the display of eloquence.  Today it was one that called for indignant fervour.

’A most disgraceful fact has come under my notice, and I am sorry to say, Miss.  Lord, that it concerns some one with whom you are acquainted.’

‘Indeed?’ said Nancy, not without tremor.  ‘Who is that?’