‘Mr. Beresford!’ she said, with a thrill of disagreeable surprise; and there came to her instantaneously one of those sudden realisations of things that might be thought or said, such as sometimes overwhelm the unsuspecting soul at the most inappropriate moment; her colour rose in spite of herself. ‘Just Mr. Beresford. He means no harm and you mean no harm; but he should be put a stop to, my dear lady. You gave me your word you would not be angry. But, madam, you’re a married lady, and your husband is at a distance. It’s not for your credit or his good that he should visit you every night.’ ‘Mr. Sommerville! stop, please! I cannot let you talk so--or anyone.’ ‘But you must, my dear lady, unless you want everybody to talk, and in a very different spirit. The world is a wicked world, and takes many things into its head. You’re a very attractive woman still, though you’re no longer in your first youth----’ ‘Mr. Sommerville, what you say is very disagreeable to me,’ said Mrs. Meredith, offended. ‘Poor Mr. Beresford! since he lost his wife he has been miserable. Nobody ever mourned more truly; and now, when he is trying to learn a little resignation, a little patience----’ ‘He should not learn those virtues, madam, at your expense.’ ‘At my expense!’ she said, with sparkling eyes; ‘at what expense to me? I allow him to come and sit with me when he has no one at home to bear him company. I allow him----’ ‘I thought his daughter had come to keep him company.’ ‘Poor Cara! she is a sweet child; but, at seventeen, what can she know of his troubles?’ ‘Softly, softly,’ said Mr. Sommerville; ‘one plea is enough at a time. If Mr. Beresford is without a companion, it does not matter that his daughter is only seventeen; and whatever her age may be, if she is there he cannot be without companionship. My dear lady, be reasonable. If he has a child grown up, or nearly so, he should stay at home. A great many of us have not even that inducement,’ said the old man, who was an old bachelor; ‘but no kind lady opens her doors to us.’ He looked at her sharply with his keen eyes; and she felt, with intense annoyance, that she was getting agitated and excited in spite of herself. ‘Mr. Sommerville,’ she said, with some dignity, ‘if anyone has been misrepresenting my friendship for Mr. Beresford, I cannot help that. It is wicked as well as unkind; for I think I have been of use to him. I think I have helped him to see that he cannot abandon his life. I don’t mean to defend myself. I have not done anything to be found fault with; friendship----’ ‘Is a delusion,’ said the old man. ‘Friendship between a man and a woman! There is no sense in it. I don’t believe a word of it. Meaning no harm to you, my dear lady. You don’t mean any harm; but if you talk to me of friendship!’ ‘Then I had better say nothing,’ she answered quickly. ‘My husband’s representative--if you call yourself so--has no right to treat me with rudeness. I have nothing more to say.’