"You have your mother, of course," she continued slowly, "but you yourself are very young, and--now I don't want to compliment you--but you are much nicer looking than many girls; you have quite a different air and appearance from any other girl in this house. Oh, I hate interfering, but your mother, Miss Wickham, must be a particularly innocent woman." "What do you mean?" I asked. "I mean Mr. Randolph," she answered, and she raised her eyes and fixed them on my face. "Mr. Randolph?" I said. "Surely you must admit that he at least is a gentleman?" "He is not only a gentleman, but he is more highly born and has more money than any one else in the house; he does not belong to the set who fill this house at all. Why does he come? This is no place for him. In one way it is quite as unsuitable to have him here as it is to have a man like Mr. Fanning here. Those two men represent opposite extremes. People will talk." "What about?" I asked. "About you, dear." "They cannot. I will not permit it." Then I said abruptly, standing up in my excitement, "After all, I don't care whether they talk or not; I was prepared for misunderstandings when I came here. Mother likes Mr. Randolph; he at least shall stay." "But, my child, it is not nice to be talked about; it is never nice for a young girl. People like my husband and myself quite understand. We know well that you and your mother are at present out of your right position, but others will not be so considerate. Mr. Randolph is always here." "You think," I said, stammering, "that he comes because----" She smiled, got up and kissed me. "What else could he come for, Westenra?" she said softly. "He comes because--because of mother," I answered. "He likes her; he told me so. He is anxious about her, for he thinks she misses her old life very much; he wants to make things easier for her. He is a very good man, and I respect him. I don't mind what any one says, I know in my heart he comes here because----" "No, you do not," said Mrs. Furlong, and she looked me full in the eyes, and I found myself colouring and stammering. "Believe me I have not intruded upon you this evening without cause," said the little woman. "I talked the matter over with my husband. I would rather Mr. Fanning were here than Mr. Randolph. Mr. Fanning is impossible, Mr. Randolph is not. He does not come here on account of your mother, he comes here because he likes you. I am very sorry; I felt I must speak; my husband agrees with me." "Do not say another word now," I said. "I am sure you mean all this kindly, but please do not say any more now. I will think over what you have said." "I will leave you then, dear," she said. She went as far as the door; she was a very kindly little woman, she was a real lady, and she meant well, but she had hurt me so indescribably that at that moment I almost hated her. When she reached the door she turned and said--