‘I’m going to tell you all about this, Milly.’

The other nodded and assumed an attitude of sober attention.  In relating her story, Monica moved hither and thither; now playing with objects on the mantlepiece, now standing in the middle of the floor, hands locked nervously behind her.  Throughout, her manner was that of defence; she seemed doubtful of herself, and anxious to represent the case as favourably as possible; not for a moment had her voice the ring of courageous passion, nor the softness of tender feeling.  The narrative hung together but awkwardly, and in truth gave a very indistinct notion of how she had comported herself at the various stages of the irregular courtship.  Her behaviour had been marked by far more delicacy and scruple than she succeeded in representing.  Painfully conscious of this, she exclaimed at length,—­

’I see your opinion of me has suffered.  You don’t like this story.  You wonder how I could do such things.’

‘Well, dear, I certainly wonder how you could begin,’ Mildred made answer, with her natural directness, but gently.  ’Afterwards, of course, it was different.  When you had once got to be sure that he was a gentleman—­’

‘I was sure of that so soon,’ exclaimed Monica, her cheeks still red.  ‘You will understand it much better when you have seen him.’

‘You wish me to?’

‘I am going to write now, and say that I will marry him.’

They looked long at each other.

‘You are—­really?’

‘Yes.  I made up my mind last night.’

’But, Monica—­you mustn’t mind my speaking plainly—­I don’t think you love him.’

’Yes, I love him well enough to feel that I am doing right in marrying him.’  She sat down by the table, and propped her head on her hand.  ’He loves me; I can’t doubt that.  If you could read his letters, you would see how strong his feeling is.’

She shook with the cold induced by excitement; her voice was at moments all but choked.

‘But, putting love aside,’ went on the other, very gravely, ’what do you really know of Mr. Widdowson?  Nothing whatever but what he has told you himself.  Of course you will let your friends make inquiries for you?’

’Yes.  I shall tell my sisters, and no doubt they will go to Miss Nunn at once.  I don’t want to do anything rash.  But it will be all right—­I mean, he has told me the truth about everything.  You would be sure of that if you knew him.’

Mildred, with hands before her on the table, made the tips of her fingers meet.  Her lips were drawn in; her eyes seemed looking for something minute on the cloth.

‘You know,’ she said at length, ’I suspected what was going on.  I couldn’t help.’

‘Of course you couldn’t.’

’Naturally I thought it was some one whose acquaintance you had made at the shop.’

‘How could I think of marrying any one of that kind?’