"Dear one, we will not argue," was the gentle response after a pause, during which the elder lady decided to change her tactics. "You are weak as yet, and must rest and grow strong. Thank God you need not decide at once, since the doctor would most certainly not sanction your travelling at present. I only touched upon this painful subject, because I wanted you to know that, without any treachery to Osbert, you have inadvertently allowed me to know how things stand between you and him, so there is no need for further concealment. You may rest safely in the knowledge that you have loving guardians who will not let you suffer from the caprice of a perverted mind." "How long have I been ill?" asked Virginia, after a pause. "This is Monday. You got home on Friday." After a few minutes' silence, the invalid asked in her usual tones for news of Pansy and Tony. Pansy was wonderfully well. The air of Worthing was doing for her even more than the doctors expected. It was at the request of Dr. Danby that they had come to Worthing. He had a friend in practice there, in whose skill and kindness he had the utmost confidence. Pansy adored her new doctor, and the electric baths were proving a great success. Tony was out a great deal with his friend Mullins. Gerald had gone to town, but was coming down on Wednesday. A tap on the door announced the doctor's visit. He was pleased to find the patient so much improved. "When shall I be able to travel?" she asked him. "Oh, some time next week, I hope," he answered comfortably. Mrs. Mynors looked triumphant. She went out of the room with the doctor, and Virginia was left to her own reflections. "_The caprice of a perverted mind!_" That phrase stuck in her head. It seemed to her that it did just exactly describe Gaunt's conduct. It is possible, however, that a perverted mind may be put right again, if it encounters some agency sufficiently powerful. When she was in town Dr. Danby had spoken to her of her husband. "He was one of the most interesting boys I ever saw," had been his verdict. "I was very sorry for him. He was thoroughly mishandled, misunderstood, by the old ladies, his great-aunts, who were all the kith and kin he had." (I can believe anything of them. They put the Chippendale in the attic, and furnished their dining-room in horsehair and mahogany, had been Virginia's inward comment.) "I saw him several times during his university period. The authorities there thought as highly of him as I did. Then came the _débâcle_. Some girl, upon whom he fixed all his heart, failed him. He could not stand it. The weak spot in his nature was touched--his fatal tendency to concentrate violently upon one object. He went all to pieces for a while--dashed off abroad--and I lost touch with him."