nd forks at the sideboard in the dismantled dining-room. Olivia
was moved to speak in the desperate hope that one stab from
Drusilla--who might be in a position to deliver it--would free her from
the obsession haunting her.

There had been a long silence, sufficiently occupied, it seemed, in
laying out the different sorts and sizes of spoons in rows of a dozen,
while Mrs. Fane did the same with the forks.

"Drusilla, did Mr. Davenant ever say anything to you about me?"

She was vexed with herself for the form of her question. It was not
Davenant's feeling toward _her_, but toward Drusilla, that she wanted to
know. She was drawing the fire in the wrong place. Mrs. Fane counted her
dozen forks to the end before saying:

"Why, yes. We've spoken of you."

Having begun with a mistake, Olivia went on with it. "Did he
say--anything in particular?"

"He said a good many things, on and off."

"Some of which might have been--in particular?"

"All of them, if it comes to that."

"Why did you never tell me?"

"For one reason, because you never asked me."

"Have you any idea why I'm asking you now?"

"Not the faintest. I dare say we sha'n't see anything more of him for
years to come."

"Did you--did you--refuse him? Did you send him away?"

"Well, that's one thing I didn't have to do, thank the Lord. There was
no necessity. I was afraid at one time that mother might make him
propose to me--she's terribly subtle in that way, though you mightn't
think it--but she didn't. No; if Peter's in love with any one, it's not
with me."

Olivia braced herself to say, "And I hope it's not with me."

Drusilla went on counting.

"Did he ever say anything about that?" Olivia persisted.

Drusilla went on counting. "Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. That's all
of that set. What a lot of silver you've got! And some of it must have
been in the family for thousands of years. Yes," she added, in another
tone, "yes, he did. He said he wasn't."

Olivia laid down the ladle she was holding with infinite precaution. She
had got the stab she was looking for. It seemed for a minute as if she
was free--gloatingly free. He hadn't cared anything about her after all,
and had said so! She steadied herself by holding to the edge of the
sideboard.

Drusilla stooped to the basket of silver standing on the floor, in a
seemingly passionate desire for more forks. By the time she had
straightened herself again, Olivia was able to say: "I'm so glad