Rhoda’s eyes had fallen.

’After that pursued Monica, we several times spoke of you.  We did so when we happened to meet near his rooms—­as I have told you.  He told me he was going to Cumberland with the hope of seeing you; and I understood him to mean he wished to ask you—­’

The sudden and great change in Miss Nunn’s expression checked the speaker.  Scornful austerity had given place to a smile, stern indeed, but exultant.  There was warmth upon her face; her lips moved and relaxed; she altered her position in the chair as if inclined for more intimate colloquy.

‘There was never more than that between us,’ pursued Monica with earnestness.  ’My interest in Mr. Barfoot was only on your account.  I hoped he might be successful.  And I have come to you because I feared you would believe my husband—­as I see you have done.’

Rhoda, though she thought it very unlikely that all this should be admirable acting, showed that the explanation had by no means fully satisfied her.  Unwilling to put the crucial question, she waited, with gravity which had none of the former harshness, for what else Mrs. Widdowson might choose to say.  A look of suffering appeal obliged her to break the silence.

‘I am very sorry you have laid this task upon yourself—­’

Still Monica looked at her, and at length murmured,—­

‘If only I could know that I had done any good—­’

‘But,’ said Rhoda, with a searching glance, ’you don’t wish me to repeat what you have said?’

’It was only for you.  I thought—­if you felt able to let Mr. Barfoot know that you had no longer any—­’

A flash of stern intelligence shot from the listener’s eyes.

‘You have seen him then?’ she asked with abrupt directness.

‘Not since.’

’He has written to you?’—­still in the same voice.

’Indeed he has not.  Mr. Barfoot never wrote to me.  I know nothing whatever about him.  No one asked me to come to you—­don’t think that.  No one knows of what I have been telling you.’

Again Rhoda was oppressed by the difficulty of determining how much credit was due to such assertions.  Monica understood her look.

’As I have said so much I must tell you all.  It would be dreadful after this to go away uncertain whether you believed me or not.’

Human feeling prompted the listener to declare that she had no doubts left.  Yet she could not give utterance to the words.  She knew they would sound forced, insincere.  Shame at inflicting shame caused her to bend her head.  Already she had been silent too long.

‘I will tell you everything,’ Monica was saying in low, tremulous tones.  ’If no one else believes me, you at all events shall.  I have not done what—­’

‘No—­I can’t hear this,’ Rhoda broke in, the speaker’s voice affecting her too powerfully.  ‘I will believe you without this.’

Monica broke into sobbing.  The strain of this last effort had overtaxed her strength.