"Precisely the same."

"And it comes," she said, "from them. And they never told me."

"They must have thought you knew."

"I didn't. They made me think it was my fault. They let me go through
all that agony and terror. I can't forgive them."

"They couldn't have known."

"There was Henry. He must have known. And yet he made me think it. He
made me give up writing because of that."

"You needn't think it any more. Jacky gets his constitution from you,
and it was you who saved the little one."

"He made me think I'd killed him. It's just as well," she said, "that I
should have thought it. If I hadn't I mightn't have fought so hard to
make him live. I might have been tormented with another book. It was the
only thing that could have stopped me."

She paused. "Perhaps--they knew that."

"It's all right," she said presently. "After all, if there is anything
wrong with the child, I'd rather Hugh didn't think it came from him."

She had now another fear. It made her very tender to Brodrick when,
coming to him in the drawing-room after their guests had departed, she
found him communing earnestly with Gertrude. A look passed between them
as she entered.

"Well, what are you two putting your heads together about?" she said.

Gertrude's head drew back as if a charge had been brought against it.

"Well," said Brodrick, "it was about the child. Something must be done.
You can't go on like this."

She seated herself. Her very silence implied that she was all attention.

"It's bad for him and it's bad for you."

"What's bad for him?"

"The way you've given yourself up to him. There's no moderation about
your methods."

"If there had been," said she, "he wouldn't be alive now."

"Yes, yes, I know that. But he's all right now. He doesn't want that
perpetual attention. It's ruining him. He thinks he's only got to scream
loud enough for anything and he gets it. Every time he screams you rush
to him. It's preposterous."

Jane listened.

"The fact is," said Brodrick, bracing himself, "you have him too much
with you."

"I _must_ have him with me."

"You mustn't," said Brodrick, with his forced gentleness.

"You think I'm bad for him?"

He did not answer.

"Gertrude--do _you_ think I'm bad for him?"

Gertrude smiled. She did not answer any more than Brodrick.

"Miss Collett agrees with me," said Brodrick.

"She always does. What do I do to him?"

"You excite him."

"Do I, Gertrude?"

Gertrude's f