“And if we’d married?”

“I’d have come round, especially after seeing you.  You’re a daughter-in-law any man would be proud of.  And now he’s married that Devitt girl for her money.”

“For her money?” queried Mavis.

“What little she has.  Never mind her:  I want to speak of you.  For all your fine looks, you were too clever by half.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, with dull, even voice.

“What I say.  That for all your grand appearance you were much too knowing.  Since you couldn’t get him one way, you thought you’d have him another.”

“You mean—–­”

“By doing as you did.”

“You insult me!” cried Mavis, now roused from her lethargy.

“Eh?”

“Insult me.  And that is why you came.  But since you’re here, you may as well know I made a mess of it, as you call it, because I loved your son.  If I’d the time over again, I suppose I’d be just such another fool.  I can’t help it.  I loved him.  I wish you good morning.”

Major Pengal had never been so taken aback in his life.  Mavis’s words and manner carried conviction to his heart.

“I didn’t know—­I beg your pardon—­I take hack my words,” he said confusedly.

Mavis relapsed into her previous torpor.

“I didn’t know there was such a woman in the world,” he continued.  “What you must have been through!”

Mavis did not speak.

“May I have the honour of calling on you again?” he asked with old-fashioned courtesy.

“It would be useless.  I go away to-morrow.”

“For good?”

“For some weeks.”

“If you return, perhaps you would honour me by calling on me.  I never see anyone.  But, if you would permit me to say so, your friendship would be an honour.”

“Thank you, but I don’t know what I shall be doing,” said Mavis wearily.

A few moments later, Major Perigal took his leave, but without recovering from his unaffected surprise at Mavis’s honesty.  He looked at her many times, to say, as he went out of the door of the parlour: 

“I always believed Charles to have brains:  now I know him to be a cursed fool.”

The following day, Mavis, accompanied by Mrs Trivett and Jill, set out for Swanage.  They took train to Dorchester, where they changed into the South-Western system, which carried them to Swanage, after making a further change at ancient Wareham.  Arrived at Swanage station, they took a fly to the house of a Mrs Budd, where lodgings, at the doctor’s recommendation, had been secured.  On their way to Mrs Budd’s, Mavis noticed a young man in a hand-propelled tricycle, which the fly overtook.  The nature of the machine told Mavis that its occupant was a cripple.

If she had encountered him eighteen months ago, her heart would have filled with pity at seeing the comely young man’s extremity:  now, she looked at him very much as she might have noticed a cat crossing the road.