Chance

"I suppose they imagined themselves concealed by the hedge. They forgot

no doubt I was working in the garret," she said bitterly. "Or perhaps

they didn't care. They were right. I am rather a simple person . . . "

She laughed again . . . "I was incapable of suspecting such duplicity."

"Duplicity is a strong word, Mrs. Fyne--isn't it?" I expostulated. "And

considering that Captain Anthony himself . . . "

"Oh well--perhaps," she interrupted me. Her eyes which never strayed

away from mine, her set features, her whole immovable figure, how well I

knew those appearances of a person who has "made up her mind." A very

hopeless condition that, specially in women. I mistrusted her concession

so easily, so stonily made. She reflected a moment. "Yes. I ought to

have said--ingratitude, perhaps."

After having thus disengaged her brother and pushed the poor girl a

little further off as it were--isn't women's cleverness perfectly

diabolic when they are really put on their mettle?--after having done

these things and also made me feel that I was no match for her, she went

on scrupulously: "One doesn't like to use that word either. The claim is

very small. It's so little one could do for her. Still . . . "

"I dare say," I exclaimed, throwing diplomacy to the winds. "But really,

Mrs. Fyne, it's impossible to dismiss your brother like this out of the

business . . . "

"She threw herself at his head," Mrs. Fyne uttered firmly.

"He had no business to put his head in the way, then," I retorted with an

angry laugh. I didn't restrain myself because her fixed stare seemed to

express the purpose to daunt me. I was not afraid of her, but it

occurred to me that I was within an ace of drifting into a downright

quarrel with a lady and, besides, my guest. There was the cold teapot,

the emptied cups, emblems of hospitality. It could not be. I cut short

my angry laugh while Mrs. Fyne murmured with a slight movement of her

shoulders, "He! Poor man! Oh come . . . "

By a great effort of will I found myself able to smile amiably, to speak

with proper softness.

"My dear Mrs. Fyne, you forget that I don't know him--not even by sight.

It's difficult to imagine a victim as passive as all that; but granting

you the (I very nearly said: imbecility, but checked myself in time)

innocence of Captain Anthony, don't you think now, frankly, that there is

a little of your own fault in what has happened. You bring them

together, you leave your brother to himself!"