Mrs. Noel's face quivered back, as a flower might when it was going to be plucked; and again Lady Casterley put her handkerchief to her lips. This time she rubbed them hard. There was nothing to come off; to do so, therefore, was a satisfaction. “I am an old woman,” she said, “and you mustn't mind what I say.” Mrs. Noel did not answer, but looked straight at her visitor; to whom it seemed suddenly that this was another person. What was it about that face, staring at her! In a weird way it reminded her of a child that one had hurt—with those great eyes and that soft hair, and the mouth thin, in a line, all of a sudden. And as if it had been jerked out of her, she said: “I don't want to hurt you, my dear. It's about my grandson, of course.” But Mrs. Noel made neither sign nor motion; and the feeling of irritation which so rapidly attacks the old when confronted by the unexpected, came to Lady Casterley's aid. “His name,” she said, “is being coupled with yours in a way that's doing him a great deal of harm. You don't wish to injure him, I'm sure.” Mrs. Noel shook her head, and Lady Casterley went on: “I don't know what they're not saying since the evening your friend Mr. Courtier hurt his knee. Miltoun has been most unwise. You had not perhaps realized that.” Mrs. Noel's answer was bitterly distinct: “I didn't know anyone was sufficiently interested in my doings.” Lady Casterley suffered a gesture of exasperation to escape her. “Good heavens!” she said; “every common person is interested in a woman whose position is anomalous. Living alone as you do, and not a widow, you're fair game for everybody, especially in the country.” Mrs. Noel's sidelong glance, very clear and cynical, seemed to say: “Even for you.” “I am not entitled to ask your story,” Lady Casterley went on, “but if you make mysteries you must expect the worst interpretation put on them. My grandson is a man of the highest principle; he does not see things with the eyes of the world, and that should have made you doubly careful not to compromise him, especially at a time like this.” Mrs. Noel smiled. This smile startled Lady Casterley; it seemed, by concealing everything, to reveal depths of strength and subtlety. Would the woman never show her hand? And she said abruptly: “Anything serious, of course, is out of the question.” “Quite.”