Rachel, with a bright blush on her cheeks, stepped quickly up to her, put her arms about her neck and kissed her, and over her shoulder she cried to her brother-- 'Tell her, Stanley.' And so she quickly left the room and was gone. 'Well, Dorkie, love, what's the matter?' said Stanley sharply, at last breaking the silence. 'I really don't know--you, perhaps, can tell,' answered she coldly. 'You have frightened Rachel out of the room, for one thing,' answered he with a sneer. 'I simply asked her what she urged you to do--I think I have a claim to know. It is strange so reasonable a question from a wife should scare your sister from the room.' 'I don't quite see that--for my part, I don't think _anything_ strange in a woman. Rachel has been talking the rankest nonsense, in the most unreasonable temper conceivable; and because she can't persuade me to accept her views of what is Christian and sensible, she threatens to go mad--I think that is her phrase.' 'I don't think Rachel is a fool,' said Dorcas, quietly, her eye still upon Stanley. 'Neither do I--when she pleases to exert her good sense--but she can, when she pleases, both talk and act like a fool.' 'And pray, what does she want you to do, Stanley?' 'The merest nonsense.' 'But what is it?' 'I really can hardly undertake to say I very well understand it myself, and I have half-a-dozen letters to write; and really if I were to stay here and try to explain, I very much doubt whether I could. Why don't you ask _her_? If she has any clear ideas on the subject I don't see why she should not tell you. For my part, I doubt if she understands herself--_I_ certainly don't.' Dorcas smiled bitterly. 'Mystery already--mystery from the first. _I_ am to know nothing of your secrets. You confer and consult in my house--you debate and decide upon matters most nearly concerning, for aught I know, my interests and my happiness--certainly deeply affecting you, and therefore which I have a _right_ to know; and my entering the room is the signal for silence--a guilty silence--for departure and for equivocation. Stanley, you are isolating me. Beware--I may entrench myself in that isolation. You are choosing your confidant, and excluding me; rest assured you shall have no confidence of mine while you do so.' Stanley Lake looked at her with a gaze at once peevish and inquisitive. 'You take a wonderfully serious view of Rachel's nonsense.' 'I do.' 'Certainly, you women have a marvellous talent for making mountains of molehills--you and Radie are adepts in the art. Never was a poor devil so lectured about nothing as I between you. Come now, Dorkie, be a good girl--you must not look so vexed.' 'I'm not vexed.' 'What then?' 'I'm only _thinking_.' She said this with the same bitter smile. Stanley Lake looked for a moment disposed to break into one of his furies, but instead he only laughed his unpleasant laugh.