Mollie looked rather disturbed when she came back into the room and shut the door after her. Beatrix looked at her as she took her seat again, and said: "Tell me about it, Moll. You know we're friends, and I've told you everything about myself, and about Rene." "Oh, well," said Mollie, with an intonation of relief. "I've told you everything so far. I'm afraid she has come to make trouble." "And her husband has sent her, I suppose. I don't think she'd want to make trouble on her own account. She's nice." "She _is_ nice, isn't she? All of you think so, don't you?" "Yes, we like her. If it weren't for her horrid husband we should like her very much. Unfortunately you can't divide them. She's too much under his thumb." "I don't think I should put it quite like that," said Mollie hesitatingly. "No, I know you wouldn't," said Beatrix quickly. "And that's why you can never get it quite straight. He _is_ horrid, and he's horrid in nothing more than the way he treats you." "He has always been very kind to me--to me and mother too. _Really_ kind, I mean, up till a little time ago, before you came--and I don't want to forget it." "Yes, kind, I suppose, in the way he'd have liked to be kind to us. If he had had his way we should have been bosom friends, and he'd have half-lived in the house." "We hadn't anything to give him in return, as you would have had. It wasn't for that he was kind to us." "My dear child, you know he's horrid--with girls. It was quite enough that you were a pretty girl." "But he wasn't like that with me, B. I should have known it if he had been." "No, you wouldn't, my dear. Vera Beckley never knew it till he tried to kiss her." Mollie flinched a little at this directness. "Don't you think she may have made too much fuss about that?" she said. "He's years and years older than she is--old enough to be her father." "Yes, of course, that's always the excuse. Moll darling, you haven't lived enough in the world. You don't know men. Besides Vera didn't make a fuss. Her people did, because they happened to catch him at it. It must have been a glorious occasion. I wish I'd been there. She only told us about it in strict confidence, and with the idea of opening _your_ eyes." "I still think she needn't have thought so much of it; and Mrs. Beckley needn't have, either. Anyhow, he has never kissed me. I don't think I should have thought anything of it if he had." "I don't suppose you would. That's what they rely on--men like that--horrid old men. And you came here just after that had happened with Vera. Naturally he'd be a bit careful." "I think you're rather horrid about it, yourself, B. I certainly have been angry the way he has behaved since, but I can't see that _that_ comes in, and I don't believe it does." "Well, I'm quite sure it does. But what do you think he has sent Mrs. Mercer here about?"