"She is quite well, thank you. I trust she will keep so, but I am afraid she is not very strong. Mr. Dalrymple, I ought perhaps to tell you that I--that Rachel told me--that I am aware of the relationship that has existed between you." "We will not speak of that, if you please, Mrs. Reade." "But I sent for you on purpose to speak of it." "Then I must ask you to excuse me," he said, rising haughtily. "I cannot discuss those matters with strangers--still less with a member of Miss Fetherstonhaugh's family." "But, Mr. Dalrymple, _I_ am not to blame for anything that has happened--for any mistakes that have been made--I assure you I am not. I never knew of your accident--I never knew that Mr. Gordon came down--I never knew anything more than Rachel did, until it was too late. And I was her intimate friend all that time, and she made me her _confidante_. I served her interests as far as a friend who loved her could, to the best of my power." "If that is so, I am very grateful to you," he said gently, "though I am afraid you failed to see what her interests were. May I ask if you are acting under her instructions now? Did she authorise you to make this appointment for the purpose of speaking of these things?" "Of course she did not." "Then we will not speak of them. There would be very grave impropriety in doing so. You must see, Mrs. Reade, that nothing you can say will in the least degree affect the case for anyone. I think we all know the truth of the story now. It is too late to take any action one way or the other. For Mrs. Kingston's sake, the fewer reminiscences we allow the better. Our business is to reconcile ourselves to circumstances, since they are irrevocable, and to let the past alone. If it was your intention to explain to me that you were guiltless of active participation in the crime which parted us, believe me, I appreciate the kind motive, and I thank you from my heart. But it is much better not to say any more about it." He was still standing with his hat in his hand, and that peculiar distant look in his sad and haughty face. Mrs. Reade sat before him in her low chair silent, with her eyes cast down. Not one of the numerous gentlemen in whose affairs she had condescended to take an interest had ever treated her like this, and she felt inexpressibly humiliated. Yet she had no sense of resentment, strange to say, against the individual who dominated her, and the position generally, in such an unexampled manner. "Did I understand you to say that Mrs. Kingston was not strong?" he inquired after a short pause. "I think she is very well," Mrs. Reade meekly responded. "Her constitution is quite sound; but her nervous system is delicate. She cannot stand worry, or shocks, or any great excitement or fatigue--any of those things upset her." "I should imagine so. But it is always possible to keep her free of those things, is it not?" Mrs. Reade replied, not so much to the letter as to the spirit of the question.