She was afraid of nothing so much as a scandal, and she knew she must assume innocence. Instead, therefore, of taking to instant flight, she went up to the desk and asked for her mail and made several other inquiries before rustling up the stairs as though nothing had happened. But behind her, she was quite conscious, she had left a wake of whispered comment and suppressed giggling. On the first landing she hesitated, the rest of the steps she mounted more slowly. She was always unequal to a serious situation and was afraid of the inevitable explanation with Edgar. She was guilty, she could not deny that, and she dreaded the child's curious gaze, which paralyzed her and filled her with uncertainty. In her timidity she decided to try gentleness, because in a battle the excited child, she knew, was the stronger. She turned the knob gently. Edgar was sitting there quiet and cool, his eyes, turned upon her at her entrance, not even betraying curiosity. He seemed to be very sure of himself. "Edgar," she began, in the motherliest of tones, "what got into you? I was ashamed of you. How can one be so ill-bred, especially a child to a grown-up person? You must ask the baron's pardon at once." "I will not." As he spoke Edgar was looking out of the window, and his words might have been meant for the trees. His sureness was beginning to astonish his mother. "Edgar, what's the matter with you? You're so different from what you were. You used to be a good, sensible child with whom a person could reason. And all at once you act as though the devil had got into you. What have you got against the baron? You liked him so much at first. He was so nice to you." "Yes, because he wanted to make your acquaintance." "Nonsense. How can you think anything like that?" The child flared up. "He's a liar. He's false through and through. Whatever he does is calculated and common. He wanted to get to know you, so he made friends with me and promised me a dog. I don't know what he promised you, or why he's so friendly with you, but he wants something of you, too, mamma, positively he does. If he didn't, he wouldn't be so polite and friendly. He's a bad man. He lies. Just take a good look at him once, and see how false his eyes are. Oh, I hate him!" "Edgar, how can you talk like that!" She was confused and did not know what to reply. The feeling stirred in her that the child was right. "Yes, he's a bad man, you can't make me believe he isn't. You must see he is. Why is he afraid of me? Why does he try to keep out of my way? Because he knows I can see through him and his badness." "How can you talk like that?" she kept protesting feebly. Her brain seemed to have dried up.