"She's a very nice girl," I pleaded meekly. "I know nothing about that. She's that man's daughter. Surely Jenny Driver might have known that her chance lay in having it all forgotten and--and in being--well, just the opposite of what she is now? She goes on as if she were proud of herself!" As a criticism on Jenny's public attitude, there was some truth in this. I could not tell Lady Aspenick about her private attitude--nor would it make matters better if I did. "She makes it very hard for her friends," continued the aggrieved lady. "We were anxious to do our best for her. But really--!" Words failed. She shook her head emphatically at me and walked off to her carriage. I found Jenny in a fine rage as the result of Lady Aspenick's expression of her views--which had apparently been nearly as frank to her as to me. Yet she protested that she had behaved with the utmost wisdom and meekness--for Margaret's sake. "I stood it, Austin," she declared, with a little stamp of her foot. "How I stood it I don't know, but I did. She lectured me--she told me I ought to have been guided by her! She said I was going quite the wrong way about it with the Institute and that she deeply regretted the 'scene' in Catsford. The scene! She threatened me with the parsons and the Puritans!" How very angry Jenny was! Parsons and Puritans! "And ended up--yes, she dared to end up--by telling me I must send Margaret away. She'll see more of Margaret than she thinks before she's done with her!" "And you were very meek and mild?" "I know you don't believe it. But I was. I was absolutely civil and thanked her for her kindness. But of course I said that I must judge for myself--and that the question of Margaret lay absolutely outside the bounds of discussion." "To which Lady Aspenick----?" "She got up and went. What did she say to you?" "Much the same--that you were making it very difficult for her." "I've gained more than I've lost in Catsford," Jenny declared obstinately and confidently. Then her voice softened. "As for poor little Margaret--it's not a question of my gain or my loss there. You do know that?" She was appealing to me for a kind judgment. "I'm beginning to understand that." "I stand or fall with Margaret; or I fall--if only she stands. That's final." She broke into a smile. "So, in spite of what you think, I drove myself to be civil to Susie Aspenick. But let her wait a little! Send Margaret away!" Jenny looked dangerous again. Jenny could have forgiven the criticism of her Catsford proceedings--though not over easily; the attempt to touch Margaret rankled, and, if I mistook not, would rankle, sorely. It is pleasant to record that Jenny's chivalrous devotion to her "legacy" found appreciation elsewhere; it softened an opponent, and stirred to enthusiasm one already inclined to be a friend.