‘Yes, and I assure you he is mistaken. Miss. French deceived him and her own people, leading them to think that she was spending her time with me, when really she was--who knows where? To you I am quite ready to confess that I hoped something might come between her and Horace; but as for plotting--really lam not so melodramatic a person. All I did in the way of design was to give Horace an opportunity of seeing the girl in a new light. You can imagine very well, no doubt, how she conducted herself. I quite believe that Horace was getting tired and ashamed of her, but then came her disappearance, and that made him angry with me.’ Even the voice suggested Horace’s tones, especially when softened in familiar dialogue. Nancy paid closer attention to the speaker’s looks and movements than to the matter of what she said. Mrs. Damerel might possibly be a well-meaning woman--her peculiarities might result from social habits, and not from insincerity; yet Nancy could not like her. Everything about her prompted a question and a doubt. How old was she? Probably much older than she looked. What was her breeding, her education? Probably far less thorough than she would have one believe. Was she in good circumstances? Nancy suspected that her fashionable and expensive dress signified extravagance and vanity rather than wealth. ‘I have brought a letter to show you which she has sent me from abroad. Read it, and form your own conclusion. Is it the letter of an injured innocent?’ A scrawl on foreign note-paper, which ran thus: DEAR MRS DAMEREL,--Just a word to console you for the loss of my society. I have gone to a better world, so dry your tears. If you see my masher, tell him I’ve met with somebody a bit more like a man. I should advise him to go to school again and finish his education. I won’t trouble you to write. Many thanks for the kindness you _didn’t_ mean to do me.--Yours in the best of spirits (I don’t mean Cognac), FANNY (_nee_) FRENCH. Nancy returned the paper with a look of disgust, saying, ‘I didn’t think she was as bad as that.’ ‘No more did I. It really gave me a little shock of surprise.’ ‘Do you think it likely she is married?’ Mrs. Damerel pursed her lips and arched her eyebrows with so unpleasant an effect on Nancy that she looked away. ‘I have no means whatever of forming an opinion.’ ‘But there’s no more fear for Horace,’ said Nancy. ‘I hope not--I think not. But my purpose in coming was to consult with you about the poor boy. He has renounced me; he won’t answer my letters; and I am so dreadfully afraid that a sort of despair--it sounds ridiculous, but he is so very young--may drive him into reckless living. You have taken part with him against me, I fear--’ ‘No, I haven’t. I told him I was quite sure the girl had only herself to blame, whatever happened.’