“I mean that it has been borne in upon me, by circumstances to which I need not refer, that I have not been as mindful of your best interests or my own, or our boy’s, as I ought to have been. I have begun to realise that a woman as beautiful and charming as you are, one so much younger, too, than her husband, ought not to be left so much to herself as you have been left. I ask you to forgive me, and to help me to do my duty better for the future.” He bent down to kiss her, but she resisted him, holding herself stiffly away and flashing indignant glances at him. “I know who has put these absurd ideas into your head,” she cried angrily. “I know who it is that has come between us, pretending to be so very good, and filling your mind, poisoning it with her wicked suspicions.” “Suspicions!” Sir Robert’s tone changed, grew hard, stern, alarming. Lady Sarah looked up at him with sudden shyness. “What has she said about me?” she asked in a trembling voice. But he was staring down intently into her face, as if he would read the very soul behind it. “She has urged me to take more care of you, that’s all,” said he in a strange, wistful tone. “I knew it was to her interference that I owed this disgraceful piece of impertinence,” she cried shrilly. “Impertinence! Do you accuse me of that, in suggesting that I wish to travel with you?” “N--n--o, of course not,” whispered Lady Sarah. “I mean it is impertinent of her to tell you wicked lies about me. It’s malicious, infamous! What has she said?” Suddenly she stood very erect, looking up with keen inquiry into his face. He took up the challenge at last. “She has said nothing. But I see for myself that--you pass too much of your time with Jack!” He was ashamed of himself as he uttered the words; it was horrible to have to hint at any fault in her. But he was driven into a corner, and had not enough finesse to avoid blurting out the truth. She burst into a broken, mirthless, angry laugh. “Oh indeed! I see too much of Jack! I pass too much time with him! And what of Miss Pembury? I don’t complain of your affection for her, or of the way in which she has wormed herself into your confidence, until your first thought is to take advice from her, even in a matter which concerns your wife.” He stammered, surprised at her swift retort. But she went on, volubly, haughtily. “If I don’t complain about your fondness for her, or about her insinuating herself into your affections and those of my own child, I really don’t see why you should make horrible insinuations about your own ward.” He silenced her sternly.