"But I thought I was doing right," I said. It was strange that Ponty was the only person against whom I had no feeling of bitterness, and in whose presence I felt less wretched than anywhere else. This might have been because she had been associated with peace and comfort as long as I could remember: but I think the real reason was that she was the only person who blamed me and not Fay. "And your Papa thought he was doing right when he arranged your poor Mamma's whole time for her, and never let her have a will or a way of her own. She didn't run away: she hadn't the spirit for it, poor thing!--and besides wives didn't run away in those days as they do now. But I saw what she didn't think anybody saw; and I watched the life die out of her like it does out of a fire that's got the sun on it." I started. So Ponty had consciously seen for herself what had only been subconsciously revealed to me. "I don't mean that Sir John was unkind to her ladyship: far from it: but he just crushed the life out of her, like Miss Annabel does out of folks, without knowing what he was up to. They've always meant well, both Miss Annabel and her Papa: but their well-meaning has done more harm than other folk's ill-meaning, in my humble judgment. And when her ladyship died, Sir John was as cut up as anybody could wish to see, and never married again nor nothing of that kind. He called her ladyship's death a dispensation of Providence, and bore it most beautiful; and nobody knew but me as it was nothing but a judgment on him for forcing poor Lady Jane into his own mould, as you might say." "But I never forced her ladyship into my mould, heaven knows!" I exclaimed. "No; but there was them as did. And you let 'em, and never interfered." I felt I was a little boy again, being scolded by Ponty in the sunny old nursery for some childish misdemeanour. It was a peaceful feeling and somehow seemed to rest and soothe my weary and wounded heart. "But I did interfere," I said: "I always interfered if I thought any one was interfering with her ladyship. Surely no husband ever let his wife have more of her own way than I did." Ponty looked me up and down with scorn, as I lolled on the chintz-covered window-seat. "And what good would your interfering do as long as Miss Annabel was there, I should like to know? Mark my words, Master Reggie: the King of England couldn't hold his own against Miss Annabel; let alone a pretty young girl like her present ladyship. I knew what would happen as soon as you told me Miss Annabel was going to stay on here after you married. There's no throwing dust in my eyes! I knew Miss Annabel before you were born, and I knew her Papa too; and I know what they're like when they're set on moulding people. I should pity the Pope of Rome hisself if he was being moulded by Miss Annabel." I agreed with her there.