"My _word_" declared Mrs. Bailey tweaking the window curtains. Then Mrs. Bailey _was_ ready and anxious to talk her over and impart her opinion. After seeming to like her so much and being so attentive and sending her off so gaily and kindly, she had some grievance. It was not the bill. It was a matter of opinion. Mrs. Bailey had been charmed and had yet seen through her. Seen what? What was the everlasting secret of Eleanor? She imagined them standing talking together, politely, and joking and laughing. Mrs. Bailey would like Eleanor's jokes; they would be in agreement with her own opinions about things. But she had formed some idea of her and was ready to express it. If it explained anything one would have to accept it, from Mrs. Bailey. To make nice general remarks about her and enquire insincerely about the bill would be never to get Mrs. Bailey's uninfluenced opinion. She would not give it unless she were asked. "I'm awfully sorry for her," she said in Eve's voice. That would mean just her poverty and her few clothes and delicate health. There could be an insincere discussion. It might end in nothing and the mean selfish joy would still be waiting upstairs as soon as one had forgotten that it was mean and selfish. "So am _I_" said Mrs. Bailey heartily. There was anger in her face. There really _was_ something, some really bad opinion about Eleanor. Mrs. Bailey thought these things more important than joyful freedom. She was one of those people who would do things; then there were other people too; then one need not trouble about what it was or warn people against Eleanor. The world would find out and protect itself, passing her on. If Mrs. Bailey felt there was something wrong, no one need feel blamed for thinking so. There was. _What_ was it? "I'm the last to be down on anyone in difficulties" said Mrs. Bailey. "Oh yes." It was coming. "It's the _way_ of people _I_ look to." She stopped. If she were not pressed she would say no more. "Oh, by the way, Mrs. Bailey, has her bill been settled?" The voice of Mrs. Lionel ... she's unsquashable my dear, absolutely unsquashable. You never saw _anything_ like it in your _life_. But she's done frerself in Weston. It might finish the talk. "That's all in order young lady. It's not that at all." "Oh, I know. I'm glad though." "I had my own suspicions before you told me you'd be responsible. I never thought about that." "No, I see." "It's the _way_ of people." "Well you know I told you at once that you must have her here at your own risk after the first week, and that I hardly knew anything about her." If she had paid the two weeks so easily perhaps Mr. Taunton was still looking after her needs. No. She would have mentioned him. He had dropped her entirely; after all he had said.