“I mean WE”--and it was wonderful how her accent discriminated. “We’ve talked you too--but of course we talk to every one.” She had a pause through which there glimmered a ray from luminous hours, the inner intimacy which, privileged as he was, he couldn’t pretend to share; then she broke out almost impatiently: “We’re looking after her--leave her to US!” His envy of this nearer approach to what so touched him than he could himself achieve was in his face, but he tried to throw it off. “I doubt if after all you’re good for her.” But Mrs. Brookenham knew. “She’s just the sort of person we ARE good for, and the thing for her is to be with us as much as possible--just live with us naturally and easily, listen to our talk, feel our confidence in her, be kept up, don’t you know? by the sense of what we expect of her splendid type, and so, little by little, let our influence act. What I meant to say just now is that I do perfectly see her taking what you call presents.” “Well then,” Mr. Cashmore enquired, “what do you want more?” Mrs. Brook hung fire an instant--she seemed on the point of telling him. “I DON’T see her, as I said, recognising the obligation.” “The obligation--?” “To give anything back. Anything at all.” Mrs. Brook was positive. “The comprehension of petty calculations? Never!” “I don’t say the calculations are petty,” Mr. Cashmore objected. “Well, she’s a great creature. If she does fall--!” His hostess lost herself in the view, which was at last all before her. “Be sure we shall all know it.” “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” “Then don’t be afraid till we do. She would fall, as it were, on US, don’t you see? and,” said Mrs. Brook, with decision this time in her headshake, “that couldn’t be. We MUST keep her up--that’s your guarantee. It’s rather too much,” she added with the same increase of briskness, “to have to keep YOU up too. Be very sure that if Carrie really wavers--” “Carrie?” His interruption was clearly too vague to be sincere, and it was as such that, going straight on, she treated it. “I shall never again give her three minutes’ attention. To answer to you for Fanny without being able--” “To answer to Fanny for me, do you mean?” He had flushed quickly as if he awaited her there. “It wouldn’t suit you, you contend? Well then, I hope it will ease you off,” he went on with spirit, “to know that I wholly LOATHE Mrs. Donner.” Mrs. Brook, staring, met the announcement with an absolute change of colour. “And since when, pray?” It was as if a fabric had crumbled. “She was here but the other day, and as full of you, poor thing, as an egg of meat.” Mr. Cashmore could only blush for her. “I don’t say she wasn’t. My life’s a burden from her.” Nothing, for a spectator, could have been so odd as Mrs. Brook’s disappointment unless it had been her determination. “Have you done with her already?” “One has never done with a buzzing insect--!”