“Why do you hesitate? Of course you realize that you have no shadow of right to interfere. You know perfectly well why I consented to remain here for the present and why I have remained?” “Yes, yes, I know that.” “And you wouldn't presume to interfere?” “Doctor Herbert Bayliss is--” She sprang to her feet. She was not smiling now. “Stop!” she interrupted, sharply. “Stop! I did not come to discuss Doctor Bayliss. I have asked you a question. I ask you if you would presume to interfere in my personal affairs. Would you?” “Why, no. That is, I--” “You say that to me! YOU!” “Frances, if you mean that I have interfered between you and the Doctor, I--” She stamped her foot. “Stop! Oh, stop!” she cried. “You know what I mean. What did you say to Mr. Heathcroft? Do you dare tell me you have not interfered there?” It had come, the expected. Her smile and the asking for “advice” had been apparently but traps to catch me off my guard. I had been prepared for some such scene as this, but, in spite of my preparations, I hesitated and faltered. I must have looked like the meanest of pickpockets caught in the act. “Frances,” I stammered, “Frances--” Her fury took my breath away. “Don't call me Frances,” she cried. “How dare you call me that?” Perturbed as I was I couldn't resist making the obvious retort. “You asked me to,” I said. “I asked you! Yes, I did. You had been kind to me, or I thought you had, and I--I was foolish. Oh, how I hate myself for doing it! But I was beginning to think you a gentleman. In spite of everything, I was beginning to--And now! Oh, at least I thought you wouldn't LIE to me.” I rose now. “Frances--Miss Morley,” I said, “do you realize what you are saying?” “Realize it! Oh,” with a scornful laugh, “I realize it quite well; you may be sure of that. Don't you like the word? What else do you call a denial of what we both know to be the truth. You did see Mr. Heathcroft. You did speak with him.” “Yes, I did.” “You did! You admit it!” “I admit it. But did he tell you what I said?” “He did not. Mr. Heathcroft IS a gentleman. He told me very little and that only in answer to my questions. I knew you and he met the other day. You did not mention it, but you were seen together, and when he did not come for the ride to which he had invited me I thought it strange. And his note to me was stranger still. I began to suspect then, and when we next met I asked him some questions. He told me next to nothing, but he is honorable and he does not LIE. I learned enough, quite enough.” I wondered if she had learned of the essential thing, of Heathcroft's engagement. “Did he tell you why I objected to his intimacy with you?” I asked.