She said passionately: "What do you mean, Mr. Bulstrode? How--why do
you speak to me like this?"

Her extraordinary guest drank his tea with singular peace of mind.

"I think he is dreadfully to be blamed."

"But why should you tell it to me?"

"Why not?" he returned, his charming eyes on hers with the greatest
tribute of affection and sympathy--"I've known you for years, I'm fond
of you, you've been horribly wronged, and I'm going to see that things
are made right for you. I've been very blind. I have longed for a
reconciliation, I admit, with this husband who, poor stuff as he is,
loves you still. But I see what a sentimental ass I've been, and how
right you are."

She put her hand to her throat as if the soft lace suffocated her; she
had grown very pale indeed.

"What," she gasped, "do you know of my plans and my intentions, Mr.
Bulstrode? I have not told them to you."

"But I've been able to guess them," he replied.

"You've dared to, then?" she flashed.

"Oh, don't blame me," he returned. "Seeing you as I have all the
while, I've been forced to make out something--to attach some reason to
your living in this isolation. You've wanted, not unnaturally and very
cleverly, I acknowledge, to see what's been going on at Westboro', what
the Duke's been up to."

Her voice was suffocated as she said:

"Oh, stop, please! Whatever has come to you, Mr. Bulstrode, I don't
know, or why you dare to speak to me as you do."

Seeing her agitation he said smoothly: "My dear child, you're so right
in everything you've done, and of course I shall stand by you."

She made a dismissing gesture. "Oh, I don't need you, I don't want
you."

He smiled benignly on her. "But I'm here, and I'm going to see you
through."

"See me through what?"

"Through your divorce," he said practically.

"But you're Westboro's friend," she stammered, and he repudiated with
just a little hesitation in his voice:

"Oh, not so much as yours. But I'm the friend of both of you in this.
It's the best thing all round."

The gentleman's attitude so baffled her, he was so serious, and yet he
took it so lightly, apparently, that she was obliged to believe he
meant what he said.

"You talked to me very differently," she reminded him, and he shrugged.

"Oh, I've been far too emotional and unpractical. I'm going henceforth
to look at things from the worldly and conventional stand-point."

She put out her hand beseechingly. "Oh, le