Maude did not answer him just then. She walked on a little faster than before; and Harcourt kept by her side, looking furtively every now and then at the pale profile, the tremulous lower lip. He could see that Mrs. Tredethlyn was profoundly agitated, and that she was trying to conceal her agitation. He could see this; and he was determined to make her speak, and speak freely. “She is not the sort of woman to suffer in silence,” he thought. “This kind of trouble is new to her, and she will cry out presently.” Mr. Lowther was not very much at fault in his estimate of Maude’s heroism. She spoke to him when they were a few paces from Julia, whose face was lighted by a look of triumph under her gauzy veil. “You say you do not know that lady. You must at least know who she is?” This was said in a tone of almost piteous entreaty. “Upon my honour, no,” Harcourt answered, gravely. There was a pause for some moments. They were in one of the meadows by this time, nearing the water’s edge, Julia still in the rear, and Maude still walking very fast, as it is the habit of most people to walk under the influence of agitation. Perhaps in that unreasoning, unnecessary haste, there lurks a vague fancy that we can hurry _away_ from our trouble. All at once Maude turned to Harcourt Lowther and laid her hand upon his arm. “Tell me what it all means,” she cried,--“tell me the worst, however bad it is. I know that you are hiding something from me. I know by your manner just now that there is some horrible meaning in Frank’s presence in that garden with that woman.” “My dear Mrs. Tredethlyn, you ask me to interfere in a matter which I have no right to approach. It may be everything to you where your husband goes,--whom he associates with. I have been his friend,--for your sake; and I have done my best to steer him clear of dangerous acquaintance and dangerous amusements--still for your sake. I may have found it a hard matter to keep him out of mischief, and may have regretted the natural tendencies of his character--always for your sake. Beyond this I can have nothing to do with him. I had good reason for being sorry when you married him--on my own account. Of late I have been even more sorry--on yours.” Maude looked at him, white and trembling. The schemer was pleased to see what deadly mischief had been done, and yet stung to the very heart to find that any falsehood of his victim’s could wound so deeply. There are triumphs which have a shadow of humiliation upon their brightness, and this was one of them. Julia, seeing that her companions were loitering, seated herself on the lower step of a stile. She had no desire to interrupt this conversation. “Speak to me plainly,” Mrs. Tredethlyn cried, passionately, “or I will go back to that cottage and ask my husband himself for an explanation. Perhaps that would be best. He has a better right to explain his conduct than any one else.”