Mrs. Walter, under the combined stress of the Vicar's speech and Bertie's appearance, was near collapse. When she had shaken hands with him she leant back in her chair with a face so white that Mollie cried out in alarm, and going to her was saved from the almost unbearable confusion that would otherwise have been hers. Mrs. Walter rallied herself, smiled and said there was nothing the matter with her but a sudden faintness which had passed off. She wanted to control the situation, and made the strongest possible mental call upon herself to do so. But her strength was not equal to the task, and, although she protested, she had to allow herself to be led from the room by Mollie and Mrs. Mercer. She was able, however, to shake hands with Bertie and tell him that Mollie should be down in a minute to give him his tea. He and the Vicar were left alone. The young man was greatly concerned at Mrs. Walter's sudden attack, which, however, he did not connect with his own arrival, and gave vent to many expressions of concern, of the nature of "Oh, I say!" "It's too bad, you know." "Poor lady! She did look bad, and no mistake!" The Vicar, actually responsible for Mrs. Walter's collapse, and knowing it, yet felt his anger rising hot and uncontrollable against the intruder. His simple expressions of concern irritated him beyond bearing. He had just enough hold over himself not to break out, but said, in his most Oxford of voices: "Don't you think, sir, that as there's trouble in the house you would be better out of it?" Bertie paused in his perambulation of the little room, and stared at him. Hostility was plainly to be seen in the way in which he met the look, and he said further: "In any case Mrs. Walter won't be able to come down, and my wife and I will have to be going in a few minutes. You can hardly expect Miss Walter to come and sit and talk alone with you while her mother is ill upstairs." The Vicar's indefensible attack upon Mollie for her indelicacy in making friends with a young man not acceptable to himself had been hidden from Bertie, but some hint of his attitude had presented itself to him, perhaps by way of his sisters. He had given it no attention, esteeming it of no importance what a man so outside his own beat should be thinking of him. But here he was faced unmistakably with strong and unfriendly opposition, and it had to be met. Bertie had been at Oxford himself, but had not acquired the 'manner,' whether as a weapon of claimed superiority or of offence. He said, quite directly, "What has it got to do with you whether I go or stay? You heard what Mrs. Walter said?"