"You gave me the impression that you had seen only Mr. Stirling and Katherine." "I never said so." "One may convey a wrong impression without any actual untruth." Mrs. Winton did not speak unkindly, but she was troubled; and she found herself at a disadvantage, facing Doris's back. "It was not quite like you." Doris turned hastily. "Mother—I can't help people's impressions. I simply said nothing, because—" Mrs. Winton waited in vain for the end of the sentence. "He was not only there, but you and he bicycled back together. Mrs. Stirling came in an hour ago to speak to me. She was motoring back from a party with some friends; and they saw you and him in the road, standing and talking, as if—" "As if—what?" proudly. For this sentence, too, remained unfinished. "She was much surprised that I had heard nothing. Why did you not tell me?" "Because I knew, if I did, I should be badgered half out of my senses." Doris returned to her work, pasting with hands that shook a little. "You never used to speak to me in such a tone." Mrs. Winton was really hurt. "I cannot think what has come over you lately. Mrs. Stirling evidently thinks that you said or did something which Hamilton did not like. She wanted to know from me what had passed, since she could not get him to explain." "I don't see that it is any business of hers." "No business of his mother's!" Mrs. Winton moved two steps nearer, and examined the sleeve of Doris's blouse. "You should get out this grease-spot." "It's not grease!" The girl quivered under Mrs. Winton's handsome but ponderous hand. "Certainly it is grease. You must see to it. But about Hamilton Stirling—I want to give you a word of warning. If you go on as you are doing now, you will end by driving him away. He is not a man to stand rebuffs." "Horrid man! Let him go, and welcome! I don't want him to come bothering me." "I don't think you mean what you are saying." "Yes, I do. He puts me out of all patience." Doris had swung round, after a night's rest, to a mood many degrees less favourable to her admirer. "And I can't stand being worried about him, mother. If I liked him ever so much—and I don't—at least I think I don't—that would be enough to turn me against him. All I want is to be let alone." She flung a book down tempestuously, and vanished from the room, leaving Mrs. Winton to uneasy reflections.