“Why, but you must! You _must_, you know. I can't be _left_ so! I must know where I _stand_! I must be sure of my _ground_! I can't go on without understanding just how much you mean by my being mistaken.” She looked Annie in the face with eyes superficially expressive of indignant surprise, and Annie perceived that she wished to restore herself in her own esteem by browbeating some one else into the affirmation of her innocence. “Well, if you must know, Mrs. Munger, I mean that you ought to have remembered Mr. Putney's infirmity, and that it was cruel to put temptation in his way. Everybody knows that he can't resist it, and that he is making such a hard fight to keep out of it. And then, if you press me for an opinion, I must say that you were not justifiable in asking Mr. Peck to take part in a social entertainment when we had explicitly dropped that part of the affair.” Mrs. Munger had not pressed Annie for an opinion on this point at all; but in their interest in it they both ignored the fact. Mrs. Munger tacitly admitted her position in retorting, “He needn't have stayed.” “You made him stay--you remember how--and he couldn't have got away without being rude.” “And you think he wasn't rude to scold me before my guests?” “He told you the truth. He didn't wish to say anything, but you forced him to speak, just as you have forced me.” “Forced _you_? Miss Kilburn!” “Yes. I don't at all agree with Mr. Peck in many things, but he is a good man, and last night he spoke the truth. I shouldn't be speaking it if I didn't tell you I thought so.” “Very well, then,” said Mrs. Munger, rising. “After this you can't expect me to have anything to do with the Social Union; you couldn't _wish_ me to, if that's your opinion of my character.” “I haven't expressed any opinion of your character, Mrs. Munger, if you'll remember, please; and as for the Social Union, I shall have nothing further to do with it myself.” Annie drew herself up a little higher, and silently waited for her visitor to go. But Mrs. Munger remained. “I don't believe Mrs. Putney herself would say what you have said,” she remarked, after an embarrassing moment. “If it were really so I should be willing to make any reparation--to acknowledge it. Will you go with me to Mrs. Putney's? I have my phaeton here, and--” “I shouldn't dream of going to Mrs. Putney's with you.” Mrs. Munger urged, with the effect of invincible argument: “I've been down in the village, and I've talked to a good many about it--some of them hadn't heard of it before--and I must say, Miss Kilburn, that people generally take a very different view of it from what you do. They think that my hospitality has been shamefully abused. Mr. Gates said he should think I would have Mr. Putney arrested. But I don't care for all that. What I wish is to prove to you that I am right; and if I can go with you to call on Mrs. Putney, I shall not care what any one else says. Will you come?” “Certainly not,” cried Annie.