d offended him.

I had barely time to notice this, before we reached my lodgings. He
appeared to be unwilling to follow me into the house.

"I suppose you have some proof to support what you have said of Nugent,"
he resumed, stopping in the courtyard. "Have you written to England since
you have been here? and have you had a reply?"

"I have written to Mrs. Finch," I answered; "and I have not had a word in
reply."

"Have you written to no one else?"

I explained to him the position in which I stood towards Miss Batchford,
and the hesitation which I had felt about writing to Grosse. The
smoldering resentment against me that had been in him ever since I had
spoken of his brother and of Lucilla, flamed up at last.

"I entirely disagree with you," he broke out angrily. "You are wronging
Lucilla and wronging Nugent. Lucilla is incapable of saying anything
against you to Grosse; and Nugent is equally incapable of misleading her
as you suppose. What horrible ingratitude you attribute to one of
them--and what horrible baseness to the other! I have listened to you as
patiently as I can; and I feel sincerely obliged by the interest which
you have shown in me--but I cannot remain in your company any longer.
Madame Pratolungo, your suspicions are inhuman! You have not brought
forward a shadow of proof in support of them. I will send here for my
luggage, if you will allow me--and I will start for England by the next
train. After what you have said, I can't rest till I have found out the
truth for myself."

This was my reward for all the trouble that I had taken to discover Oscar
Dubourg! Never mind the money I had spent--I am not rich enough to care
about money--only consider the trouble. If I had been a man, I do really
think I should have knocked him down. Being only a woman, I dropped him a
low curtsey, and stung him with my tongue.

"As you please, sir," I said. "I have done my best to serve you--and you
quarrel with me and leave me, in return. Go! You are not the first fool
who has quarreled with his best friend."

Either the words or the curtsey--or both together--brought him to his
senses. He made me an apology--which I received. And he looked
excessively foolish--which put me in an excellent humour again. "You
stupid boy," I said, taking his arm, and leading him to the stairs. "When
we first met at Dimchurch did you find me a suspicious woman or an
inhuman woman? Answer me that!"

He answered frankly enough.

"I