shining
in the blue and of courtesy in romantic forms.

"Why after all should we have to choose between you? Why shouldn't we
be four?" she finally demanded.

Mrs. Wix gave the jerk of a sleeper awakened or the start even of one
who hears a bullet whiz at the flag of truce. Her stupefaction at
such a breach of the peace delayed for a moment her answer. "Four
improprieties, do you mean? Because two of us happen to be decent
people! Do I gather you to wish that I should stay on with you even
if that woman IS capable--?"

Maisie took her up before she could further phrase Mrs. Beale's
capability. "Stay on as MY companion--yes. Stay on as just what you
were at mamma's. Mrs. Beale WOULD let you!" the child said.

Mrs. Wix had by this time fairly sprung to her arms. "And who, I'd like
to know, would let Mrs. Beale? Do you mean, little unfortunate, that YOU
would?"

"Why not, if now she's free?"

"Free? Are you imitating HIM? Well, if Sir Claude's old enough to know
better, upon my word I think it's right to treat you as if you also
were. You'll have to, at any rate--to know better--if that's the line
you're proposing to take." Mrs. Wix had never been so harsh; but on the
other hand Maisie could guess that she herself had never appeared so
wanton. What was underlying, however, rather overawed than angered her;
she felt she could still insist--not for contradiction, but for ultimate
calm. Her wantonness meanwhile continued to work upon her friend, who
caught again, on the rebound, the sound of deepest provocation. "Free,
free, free? If she's as free as YOU are, my dear, she's free enough, to
be sure!"

"As I am?"--Maisie, after reflexion and despite whatever of portentous
this seemed to convey, risked a critical echo.

"Well," said Mrs. Wix, "nobody, you know, is free to commit a crime."

"A crime!" The word had come out in a way that made the child sound it
again.

"You'd commit as great a one as their own--and so should I--if we were
to condone their immorality by our presence."

Maisie waited a little; this seemed so fiercely conclusive. "Why is it
immorality?" she nevertheless presently enquired.

Her companion now turned upon her with a reproach softer because it was
somehow deeper. "You're too unspeakable! Do you know what we're talking
about?"

In the interest of ultimate calm Maisie felt that she must be above all
clear. "Certainly; about their taking advantage of their freedom."

"Well, to do what?"