ngsmead's turn came, and more feebly, less
effectively, but to the best of her powers, she gave back abuse for
abuse.

It was not a pleasant sight. Unbridled rage never is, even when in a
good cause, and these two undisciplined women had lost all dignity and
said very bad things to each other.

Brigit's one excuse was her mistaken assumption that her mother had
believed Carron's story, and when Lady Kingsmead had shrieked out
everything else that she thought might hurt her daughter, she added, "I
believed in you, you little brute, though he said he _saw_ you there. I
might have known he wouldn't have dared to make up such a tale."

Brigit, who had stood quite still, now spoke. "Then--you believe him
now?"

"Yes, I _do_!" lied Lady Kingsmead, goaded by the sneer on her
daughter's fierce mouth.

There was a long pause, and then Brigit Mead went to the door.

"I am sorry I lost my temper and made such a beast of myself," she said
slowly, "and--I will never speak to you again as long as I live."

She closed the door gently and went upstairs to her room.

It was done now, decided, her boats were burnt. From this day henceforth
she would be spoken of as the queer Mead girl who doesn't live with her
mother.

While she dressed for dinner she laid her plans with the quickness
native to her. She would dine and dance at the Newlyns, and then she
would go to the Joyselles' for the night.

The next day she would go and talk to a girl friend who had a flat in
huge and horrible "Mansions" out Kensington way. She would live alone
with a maid; and she would have to pinch and scrape--but that would not
matter. And then--Joyselle would come to see her, and very probably some
day they would lose their heads, and it would be her mother's fault.
There was much satisfaction in this reflection, for she ignored the fact
that in all probability the crisis had been only precipitated by her
mother's speech.

There was Tommy. Well, Joyselle would be good to him for her sake. And
even if Tommy should elect to come and live with her, her mother could
not prevent his doing so. She would fuss and cry and tell all her
friends how ungrateful her children were, but in the end Tommy's
firmness would prevail.

She laughed as she got out of the carriage at the Newlyns. By great good
luck Joyselle was dining there, and Theo coming only to the dance.

"I will tell him," she thought, and her heart gave a great throb and
then sank warmly into it