ack on her character reached Doctor Benjulia's
knowledge. He is an old friend of yours. Why has he only told you of it
to-day? I hope I don't offend you by asking these questions?"

"Oh, dear, no! your questions are so easily answered. I never encouraged
the doctor to speak of my brother and his wife. The subject was too
distasteful to me--and I don't doubt that Doctor Benjulia felt about it
as I did."

"Until to-day," the lawyer remarked; "Doctor Benjulia appears to have
been quite ready to mention the subject to-day."

"Under special circumstances, Mr. Mool. Perhaps, you will not allow that
special circumstances make any difference?"

On the contrary, Mr. Mool made every allowance. At the same time, he
waited to hear what the circumstances might be.

But Mrs. Galilee had her reasons for keeping silence. It was impossible
to mention Benjulia's reception of her without inflicting a wound on her
self-esteem. To begin with, he had kept the door of the room open, and
had remained standing. "Have you got Ovid's letters? Leave them here;
I'm not fit to look at them now." Those were his first words. There was
nothing in the letters which a friend might not read: she accordingly
consented to leave them. The doctor had expressed his sense of
obligation by bidding her get into her carriage again, and go. "I have
been put in a passion; I have made a fool of myself; I haven't a nerve
in my body that isn't quivering with rage. Go! go! go!" There was his
explanation. Impenetrably obstinate, Mrs. Galilee faced him--standing
between the doctor and the door--without shrinking. She had not driven
all the way to Benjulia's house to be sent back again without gaining
her object: she had her questions to put to him, and she persisted in
pressing them as only a woman can. He was left--with the education of
a gentleman against him--between the two vulgar alternatives of turning
her out by main force, or of yielding, and getting rid of her decently
in that way. At any other time, he would have flatly refused to lower
himself to the level of a scandal-mongering woman, by entering on the
subject. In his present mood, if pacifying Mrs. Galilee, and ridding
himself of Mrs. Gallilee, meant one and the same thing, he was ready,
recklessly ready, to let her have her own way. She heard the infamous
story, which she had repeated to her lawyer; and she had Lemuel
Benjulia's visit, and Mr. Morphew's contemplated attack on Vivisection,
to thank for