though it was just the point at which her interest deepened. A different look had come into his face as he put down his empty teacup. "But why should I tell you such things, for any good it does me? I gather that you've no suggestion to make me now except that I shall request my solicitor to act. Shall I request him to act?"
Fleda scarce caught his words: something new had suddenly come into her mind. "When you went to Waterbath after seeing me," she asked, "did you tell her all about that?"
Owen looked conscious. "All about it?"
"That you had had a long talk with me without seeing your mother at all?"
"Oh yes, I told her exactly, and that you had been most awfully kind and that I had placed the whole thing in your hands."
Fleda was silent a moment. "Perhaps that displeased her," she at last suggested.
"It displeased her fearfully," said Owen, looking very queer.
"Fearfully?" broke from the girl. Somehow, at the word, she was startled.
"She wanted to know what right you had to meddle. She said you were not honest."
"Oh!" Fleda cried with a long wail. Then she controlled herself. "I see."
"She abused you, and I defended you. She denounced you———"
She checked him with a gesture. "Don't tell me what she did!" She had coloured up to her
