"If she would have come, of course," said Gregory, in his voice of wraith-like gentleness. "You wanted her back if she'd gone off with another man like that and didn't love you any more?" Gregory was silent for a moment and she saw that her persistence troubled and perplexed him. "As to love," he said, "Karen was a child in some things. I believe that she would have grown to love me if her guardian hadn't come between us. And it might have been to escape from her guardian as well as with the idea of freeing herself from me that she took refuge with this man. I am convinced that her guardian behaved badly to her. It's rather difficult for me to talk to you, Mrs. Talcott," said Gregory, "though I am grateful for your kindness, because I so inexpressibly detest a person whom you care for." "Mr. Jardine," said Mrs. Talcott, fixing her eyes upon him, "I want to say something right here, so as there shan't be any mistake about it. You were right about Mercedes, all along; do you take that in? I don't want to say any more about Mercedes than I've got to; I've cut loose from my moorings, but I guess I do care more about Mercedes than anyone's ever done who's known her as well as I do. But you were right about her. And I'm your friend and I'm Karen's friend, and it pretty near killed me when all this happened." Gregory now had taken a chair before her and his eyes, with a new look, gazed deeply into hers as she went on: "I wouldn't have accepted what your letter said, not for a minute, if I hadn't got Mercedes's next thing and if I hadn't seen that Mercedes, for a wonder, wasn't telling lies. I was a mighty sick woman, Mr. Jardine, for a few days; I just seemed to give up. But then I got to thinking. I got to thinking, and the more I thought the more I couldn't lie there and take it. I thought about Mercedes, and what she's capable of; and I thought about you and how I felt dead sure you loved Karen; and I thought about that poor child and all she'd gone through; and the long and short of it was that I felt it in my bones that Mercedes was up to mischief. Karen sent for her, she said; but I don't believe Karen sent for her;--I believe she got wind somehow of where Karen was and lit out before I could stop her; yes, I was away that day, Mr. Jardine, and when I came back I found that three ladies had come for Mercedes and she'd made off with them. It may be true about Karen; she may have done this wicked thing; but if she's done it I don't believe it's the way Mercedes says she has. And I've worked it out to this: you must see Karen, Mr. Jardine; you must have it from her own mouth that she loves Franz and wants to go off with him and marry him before you give her up." Gregory's face, as these last words were spoken, showed a delicate stiffening. "She won't see me," he said. "Who says so?" asked Mrs. Talcott.