“If he doesn’t he’s a cruel, heartless, unfeeling, unforgiving monster,” said Nelly. And then Jenny burned in her turn to ask if Nelly herself had not intended to do as much by Captain Davy, but, being a true woman as well as her adversary, she found a crooked way to the plain question. “Is it at eleven,” she said, “that the carriage is to come for you?” Mrs. Quiggin had recovered herself in a moment, and then there was a delicate bout of thrust and parry. “I’m so sorry for your sake, Jenny,” she said, in the old tone of delicious insincerity, “that the poor fellow is married.” “Gracious me, for my sake? Why?” said Jenny. “I thought you were half in love with him, you know,” said Nelly. “Half?” cried Jenny. “I’m over head and ears in love with him.” “That’s a pity,” said Nelly; “for, of course, you’ll give him up now that you know he has a wife.” “What of that? If he _has_ a wife I have no husband--so it’s as broad as it’s long,” said Jenny. “Jenny!” cried Nelly. “And, oh!” said Jenny, “there is one thing I didn’t tell you. But you’ll keep it secret? Promise me you’ll keep it secret. I’m to meet him again by appointment this very night.” “But, Jenny!” “Yes, in the garden of this house--by the waterfall at eight o’clock. I’ll slip out after dinner in my cloak with the hood to it.” “Jenny Crow!” “It’s our last chance, it seems. The poor fellow sails at midnight, or tomorrow morning, or to-morrow night, or the next night, or sometime. So you see he’s not going away without saying good-by to somebody. I couldn’t help telling you, Nelly. It’s nice to share a secret with a friend one can trust, and if he _is_ another woman’s husband--” Nell had risen to her feet with her face aflame. “But you mustn’t do it,” she cried. “It’s shocking, it’s horrible--common morality is against it.” Jenny looked wondrous grave. “That’s it, you see,” she said. “Common morality always _is_ against everything that’s nice and agreeable.” “I’m ashamed of you, Jenny Crow. I am; indeed, I am. I could never have believed it of you; indeed, I couldn’t. And the man you speak of is no better than you are, and all his talk of loving the wife is hypocrisy and deceit; and the poor woman herself should know of it, and come down on you both and shame you--indeed, she should,” cried Nelly, and she flounced out of the room in a fury. Jenny watched her go and thought to herself. “She’ll keep that appointment for me at eight o’clock to-night by the waterfall.” Presently she heard Mrs. Quiggin with a servant of the hotel countermanding the order for the carriage at eleven, and engaging it instead for the extraordinary hour of nine at night. “She intends to keep it,” thought Jenny. “And now,” she said, settling herself at the writing-table; “now for the _other_ simpleton.”