hen . . .' She stopped:--Then the author of this mischief is
clear to me! her divining hatred of Cecil would have said, but her humble
position did not warrant such speech. A consideration of the lowliness
necessitating this restraint at a moment when loudly to denounce
another's infamy with triumphant insight would have solaced and supported
her, kept Rosamund dumb.

She could not bear to think of her part in the mischief.

She was not bound to think of it, knowing actually nothing of the
occurrence.

Still she felt that she was on her trial. She detected herself running in
and out of her nature to fortify it against accusations rather than
cleanse it for inspection. It was narrowing in her own sight. The
prospect of her having to submit to a further interrogatory, shut it up
entrenched in the declaration that Dr. Shrapnel had so far outraged her
sentiments as to be said to have offended her: not insulted, perhaps, but
certainly offended.

And this was a generous distinction. It was generous; and, having
recognized the generosity, she was unable to go beyond it.

She was presently making the distinction to Miss Halkett. The colonel had
left her at the door of the house: Miss Halkett sought admission to her
private room on an errand of condolence, for she had sympathized with her
very much in the semi-indignity Nevil had forced her to undergo: and very
little indeed had she been able to sympathize with Nevil, who had been
guilty of the serious fault of allowing himself to appear moved by his
own commonplace utterances; or, in other words, the theme being hostile
to his audience, he had betrayed emotion over it without first evoking
the spirit of pathos.

'As for me,' Rosamund replied, to some comforting remarks of Miss
Halkett's, 'I do not understand why I should be mixed up in Dr.
Shrapnel's misfortunes: I really am quite unable to recollect his words
to me or his behaviour: I have only a positive impression that I left his
house, where I had gone to see Captain Beauchamp, in utter disgust, so
repelled by his language that I could hardly trust myself to speak of the
man to Mr. Romfrey when he questioned me. I did not volunteer it. I am
ready to say that I believe Dr. Shrapnel did not intend to be insulting.
I cannot say that he was not offensive.

You know, Miss Halkett, I would willingly, gladly have saved him from
anything like punishment.'

'You are too gentle to have thought of it,' said Cecilia.

'But I