"No, certainly not," he agreed. "Besides," she went on, "sometimes I have to give in very much against my own will. As about coming here," and she related the history of the "breaking the journey," which had led to such uncomfortable results. Rex listened with considerable amusement. "But after all," he said, "it's an ill wind, you know. But for the little episode in question, I might never have had the pleasure of getting to know you so well." "No," said Imogen, with the sort of bluntness of manner which was, somehow, one of her charms, "that's true." Then there fell a little silence. "Major Winchester," said Imogen after a moment or two. "Miss Wentworth?" he replied. "You mustn't mind my saying so," she began, "but do you know I can't help thinking you are all a little hard upon Trixie." His face darkened at once. "How so?" he said. Imogen hesitated. "It's very difficult to answer when you're asked like that," she said, pouting a little. But her companion seemed to have lost his playfulness. He did not speak. "I mean--I mean," she went on, "that because she's spoilt, perhaps, and rather noisy, and--and what you call loud or fast sometimes, you all, you and her sister, and even her brother,"--with a glance round to make sure that Florence was not within earshot--"seem to think there's no good in her." "Heaven forbid!" Major Winchester ejaculated; "Heaven forbid that I should say such a thing of anybody!" "Well, well, you know what I mean," Imogen went on; "you don't think there's _much_, anyway. Now she was really very kind to me when we arrived, much kinder than anybody; except you, of course," she added naively. Rex's tone softened. "I am far from saying there is no good in Trixie," he repeated. "If we could get her away from other influences, if she could really be made to _feel_, if--if--But it's no use discussing her. And, excuse me, my dear child,"--he was scarcely aware that he used the expression--"but can you judge in so very short a time as to whether we are hard on her or not?" "N-no," said Imogen, consideringly. "Only sometimes one seems to see thing's at first better than afterwards." "Or one fancies so," he remarked. "But don't begin thinking Trixie a martyr. She is nothing of the kind, I assure you. I am glad--if she has been really kind to you, I should be glad. Still, I cannot help hoping that you will make more of a friend of Florence." Imogen made a little _moue_. "I will if I can," she said, adding: "It's Miss Forsyth you think the bad influence, I can see. I'm afraid you don't think there's much good in _her_." "No," said Major Winchester, gravely; "I'm afraid I do not." "_I_ don't like her," continued the girl, "but mamma does. Miss Forsyth's so nice to her. You'd better warn mamma. Major Winchester," she added, rather flippantly.