WHITEWASH
The butler passed through from the dining-room to answer the electric ring of the door-bell.
"If that is Mr. Conway, Charles," she said, "show him in here, and remember I am at home to no one else for the present."
The butler bowed, and went on.
A moment later Morton was introduced into the discreet twilight of the drawing-room and the presence of Mrs. Ford, whose face had suddenly become clouded and grave. She held out her hand frankly, but forbore to smile.
"First, let me tell you, that we hope Philippa may escape the consequences of her collapse. She has at last fallen asleep, under the influence of opiates, it is true."
Morton nodded. "I am glad to hear it," he said, coldly.
"She is in a very desperate state of mind," the aunt went on. "She raves about the wrong she has unwittingly done Victoria, and fairly implores and begs to have her friends admitted that she may tell them of her fearful mistake. I really did not suspect Philippa of so much conscience.
