This shaft also left its momentary mark upon the visitor's complexion. "The same applies to you," she went on the more severely. "We had no idea who you were, either!" "And now?" said Rachel, still mistress of the situation, for she knew so well what was coming. "And now we hear, and I wish to know whether it is true or not. Were you, or were you not, the Mrs. Minchin who was tried last winter for her husband's murder?" Rachel looked steadily into the hard brown eyes, until a certain hardness came into her own. "I don't quite know what right you think you have to ask me such a question, Mrs. Venables. Is it the usual thing to question people who have made a second marriage--supposing I am one--about their first? I fancied myself that it was considered bad form; but then I am still very ignorant of the manners and customs in this part of the world. Since you ask it, however, you shall have your answer." And Rachel's voice rang out through the room, as she rose majestically from the chair which she had drawn opposite that of the visitor. "Yes, Mrs. Venables, I am that unhappy woman. And what then?" "No wonder you were silent about yourself," said Mrs. Venables, in a vindictive murmur. "No wonder we never even heard--" "And what then?" repeated Rachel, with a quiet and compelling scorn. "Does it put one outside the local pale to keep to oneself any painful incident in one's own career? Is an accusation down here the same thing as a conviction? Is there nothing to choose between 'guilty' and 'not guilty'?" "You must be aware," proceeded Mrs. Venables, without taking any notice of these questions--"indeed, you cannot fail to be perfectly well aware--that a large proportion of the public was dissatisfied with the verdict in your case." "Your husband, for one!" Rachel agreed, with a scornful laugh. "He would have come to see me hanged; he told me so at his own table." "You never would have been at his table," retorted Mrs. Venables, with some effect, "if he or I had dreamt who you were; but now that we know, you may be quite sure that none of us will sit at yours." And Mrs. Venables rose up in all her might and spite, her brown eyes flashing, her handsome head thrown back. "Are you still speaking for the district?" inquired Rachel, conquering a recreant lip to put the question, and putting it with her finest scorn. "I am speaking for Mr. Venables, my daughters, and myself," rejoined the lady with great dignity; "others will speak for themselves; and you will soon learn in what light you are regarded by ordinary people. It is a merciful chance that we have found you out--a merciful chance! That you should dare--you, about whom there are not two opinions among sensible people--that you should dare to come among us as you have done and to speak to me as you have spoken! But one thing is certain--it is for the last time."