t I saw how you treated them, and I guess I got excited about it, and
couldn't help following the impulse--but I'll know better next time,
I can tell you! I'll keep my mouth shut as I meant to, and as I would
have, if I hadn't got excited and if I hadn't felt sorry for you. But
what does it matter to anybody if I'm sorry for them? I'm only old
Fanny!"

"Oh, good gracious! How can it matter to me who's sorry for me when I
don't know what they're sorry about!"

"You're so proud," she quavered, "and so hard! I tell you I didn't mean
to speak of it to you, and I never, never in the world would have told
you about it, nor have made the faintest reference to it, if I hadn't
seen that somebody else had told you, or you'd found out for yourself
some way. I--"

In despair of her intelligence, and in some doubt of his own, George
struck the palms of his hands together. "Somebody else had told me what?
I'd found what out for myself?"

"How people are talking about your mother."

Except for the incidental teariness of her voice, her tone was casual,
as though she mentioned a subject previously discussed and understood;
for Fanny had no doubt that George had only pretended to be mystified
because, in his pride, he would not in words admit that he knew what he
knew.

"What did you say?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course I understood what you were doing," Fanny went on, drying her
handkerchief again. "It puzzled other people when you began to be rude
to Eugene, because they couldn't see how you could treat him as you did
when you were so interested in Lucy. But I remembered how you came to
me, that other time when there was so much talk about Isabel; and I
knew you'd give Lucy up in a minute, if it came to a question of your
mother's reputation, because you said then that--"

"Look here," George interrupted in a shaking voice. "Look here, I'd
like--" He stopped, unable to go on, his agitation was so great. His
chest heaved as from hard running, and his complexion, pallid at first,
had become mottled; fiery splotches appearing at his temples and cheeks.
"What do you mean by telling me--telling me there's talk about--about--"
He gulped, and began again: "What do you mean by using such words as
'reputation'? What do you mean, speaking of a 'question' of my--my
mother's reputation?"

Fanny looked up at him woefully over the handkerchief which she now
applied to her reddened nose. "God knows I'm sorry for you, George," she
mu