lings as a
woman. "He must be a fool," Miss Stanbury had said, and Dorothy took
time to collect her thoughts before she would reply. In the meantime
her aunt finished the reading of the letter.

"He may be foolish in this," Dorothy said; "but I don't think you
should call him a fool."

"I shall call him what I please. I suppose this was going on at the
time when you refused Mr. Gibson."

"Nothing was going on. Nothing has gone on at all," said Dorothy,
with as much indignation as she was able to assume.

"How can you tell me that? That is an untruth."

"It is not--an untruth," said Dorothy, almost sobbing, but driven at
the same time to much anger.

"Do you mean to say that this is the first you ever heard of it?" And
she held out the letter, shaking it in her thin hand.

"I have never said so, Aunt Stanbury."

"Yes, you did."

"I said that nothing--was--going on, when Mr. Gibson--was--. If you
choose to suspect me, Aunt Stanbury, I'll go away. I won't stay here
if you suspect me. When Brooke spoke to me, I told him you wouldn't
like it."

"Of course I don't like it." But she gave no reason why she did not
like it.

"And there was nothing more till this letter came. I couldn't help
his writing to me. It wasn't my fault."

"Psha!"

"If you are angry, I am very sorry. But you haven't a right to be
angry."

"Go on, Dorothy; go on. I'm so weak that I can hardly stir myself;
it's the first moment that I've been out of my bed for weeks;--and of
course you can say what you please. I know what it will be. I shall
have to take to my bed again, and then,--in a very little time,--you
can both--make fools of yourselves,--just as you like."

This was an argument against which Dorothy of course found it to be
quite impossible to make continued combat. She could only shuffle her
letter back into her pocket, and be, if possible, more assiduous than
ever in her attentions to the invalid. She knew that she had been
treated most unjustly, and there would be a question to be answered
as soon as her aunt should be well as to the possibility of her
remaining in the Close subject to such injustice; but let her aunt
say what she might, or do what she might, Dorothy could not leave
her for the present. Miss Stanbury sat for a considerable time quite
motionless, with her eyes closed, and did not stir or make signs of
life till Dorothy touched her arm, asking her whether she would not
take some broth which had been prepared