upon Harriet, but in them now was a look very different from the one that had been wont to regard the housekeeper.
Much had happened in a very little time, but to the last a fine tactician, Charlotte had contrived to keep her head. She was in the presence of calamity, she had met a blow that would have broken a weaker person in pieces, but already a line of action was formed in her mind. One thing alone could save them, and that the continued goodwill of the woman they had so long misjudged and traduced.
"Mrs. Sanderson"—she used the old name unconsciously—"we owe you a great deal." It was not easy to make the admission, even if common justice rather than policy called for it. "I hope now you will let us add to the debt."
The Duke was forced to admire the dignity and the directness of the appeal. He knew how hard she had been hit. But that was not all. Marking his sister's tone, intently watching her grim face, he saw how completely her attitude had changed. The other woman had conquered, but in spite of all he had suffered at the hands of Charlotte, it was difficult not to feel a certain respect as well as a certain pity for her in the hour of her defeat.
By this, Harriet, too, had become mistress of herself. She, also, had suffered much, but she had never played for victory, and she was very far from the thought of it now. "I have but one wish," she said.
"And that is?" His tone was strangely gentle for her voice had failed suddenly.
"To do what is right."
