'Oh! I am so sorry to hear you say that. Do sit down, and let me hear all about it. I have so looked forward to seeing you.' 'I am only here to ask what good it can do you to talk ill of me.' 'I really don't understand. I am quite at a loss.' 'But I know for certain that you have tried to injure me by telling extraordinary falsehoods.' Mrs. Strangeways regarded her with an air of gently troubled deprecation. 'Oh, you have been grievously misled. Who can have told you this?' 'The name doesn't matter. I have no doubt of the fact.' 'But at least you will tell me what I am supposed to have said.' Alma hesitated, and only after several interchanges of question and answer did the full extent of her accusation appear. Thereupon Mrs Strangeways smiled, as if with forbearance. 'Now I understand. But I have been cruelly misrepresented. I heard such a rumour, and I did my best to contradict it. I heard it, unfortunately, more than once.' Again Alma found herself in conflict with an adroitness, a self-possession, so much beyond her own, that the sense of being maliciously played with goaded her into rage. 'No one but yourself could ever have started such a story!' 'You mean,' sounded the other voice, still soft, though not quite so amiable, 'that I was the only person who knew----' And there Mrs. Strangeways paused, as if discreetly. 'Knew? Knew what?' 'Only that you had reason for a little spite against your dear friend.' 'Suppose it was so,' exclaimed Alma, remembering too well her last conversation with this woman. 'Whatever you knew, or thought you knew, about me--and it was little enough--you have been making use of it disgracefully.' 'You say I knew very little,' put in the other, turning a ring upon her hand; 'but you will admit that it was enough to excite my curiosity. May I not have taken trouble to learn more?' 'Any amount of trouble would have taught you nothing; there was nothing to discover. And that you know as well as I do.' Mrs. Strangeways moved her head, as if in good-natured acquiescence. 'Don't let us be harsh with each other, my dear. We have both had our worries and trials in consequence of that unfortunate affair. You, I can see, have gone through a good deal; I assure you, so have I. But oughtn't you to remember that our misfortunes were caused by the same person? If I----' 'Your misfortunes are nothing to me. And I shouldn't think you would care to talk about them.' 'Surely I might say the same to you, my dear Alma? Is there very much to choose between us?' Alma flushed with resentment, but had no word ready on her parched tongue. The other went on in an unbroken flow of mocking good humour.