ted, as had lost the key to their own. It may have
been partly through the effect of this especial strain of community with
her old friend that Maggie found herself, one evening, moved to take
up again their dropped directness of reference. They had remained
downstairs together late; the other women of the party had filed, singly
or in couples, up the "grand" staircase on which, from the equally grand
hall, these retreats and advances could always be pleasantly observed;
the men had apparently taken their way to the smoking-room; while the
Princess, in possession thus of a rare reach of view, had lingered as
if to enjoy it. Then she saw that Mrs. Assingham was remaining a
little--and as for the appreciation of her enjoyment; upon which they
stood looking at each other across the cleared prospect until the elder
woman, only vaguely expressive and tentative now, came nearer. It was
like the act of asking if there were anything she could yet do, and that
question was answered by her immediately feeling, on this closer view,
as she had felt when presenting herself in Portland Place after Maggie's
last sharp summons. Their understanding was taken up by these new
snatched moments where that occasion had left it.

"He has never told her that I know. Of that I'm at last satisfied." And
then as Mrs. Assingham opened wide eyes: "I've been in the dark since
we came down, not understanding what he has been doing or intending--not
making out what can have passed between them. But within a day or two
I've begun to suspect, and this evening, for reasons--oh, too many to
tell you!--I've been sure, since it explains. NOTHING has passed between
them--that's what has happened. It explains," the Princess repeated
with energy; "it explains, it explains!" She spoke in a manner that her
auditor was afterwards to describe to the Colonel, oddly enough, as that
of the quietest excitement; she had turned back to the chimney-place,
where, in honour of a damp day and a chill night, the piled logs had
turned to flame and sunk to embers; and the evident intensity of her
vision for the fact she imparted made Fanny Assingham wait upon her
words. It explained, this striking fact, more indeed than her companion,
though conscious of fairly gaping with good-will, could swallow at once.
The Princess, however, as for indulgence and confidence, quickly filled
up the measure. "He hasn't let her know that I know--and, clearly,
doesn't mean to. He has made up his