"You know better than I," said Fleda, speaking with high extravagance. "I don't know anything in the world half so well as you. If I were as clever as you I might hope to get round her." Owen hesitated; then he went on: "In fact I don't quite see what even you can say or do that will really fetch her." "Neither do I, as yet. I must think--I must pray!" the girl pursued, smiling. "I can only say to you that I'll try. I _want_ to try, you know--I want to help you." He stood looking at her so long on this that she added with much distinctness: "So you must leave me, please, quite alone with her. You must go straight back." "Back to the inn?" "Oh no, back to town. I'll write to you to-morrow." He turned about vaguely for his hat. "There's the chance, of course, that she may be afraid." "Afraid, you mean, of the legal steps you may take?" "I've got a perfect case--I could have her up. The Brigstocks say it's simple stealing." "I can easily fancy what the Brigstocks say!" Fleda permitted herself to remark without solemnity. "It's none of their business, is it?" was Owen's unexpected rejoinder. Fleda had already noted that no one so slow could ever have had such rapid transitions. She showed her amusement. "They've a much better right to say it's none of mine." "Well, at any rate, you don't call her names." Fleda wondered whether Mona did; and this made it all the finer of her to exclaim in a moment: "You don't know what I shall call her if she holds out!" Owen gave her a gloomy glance; then he blew a speck off the crown of his hat. "But if you do have a set-to with her?" He paused so long for a reply that Fleda said: "I don't think I know what you mean by a set-to." "Well, if she calls _you_ names." "I don't think she'll do that." "What I mean to say is, if she's angry at your backing me up--what will you do then? She can't possibly like it, you know." "She may very well not like it; but everything depends. I must see what I shall do. You mustn't worry about me." She spoke with decision, but Owen seemed still unsatisfied. "You won't go away, I hope?" "Go away?" "If she does take it ill of you." Fleda moved to the door and opened it. "I'm not prepared to say. You must have patience and see." "Of course I must," said Owen--"of course, of course." But he took no more advantage of the open door than to say: "You want me to be off, and I'm off in a minute. Only, before I go, please answer me a question. If you _should_ leave my mother, where would you go?" Fleda smiled again. "I haven't the least idea." "I suppose you'd go back to London." "I haven't the least idea," Fleda repeated.