Then it came to Mrs. Wilcox's knowledge that certain reflections had been

made on her daughter's conduct. Mrs. Nevill Tyson was said to be making

good use of her liberty. No names had been mentioned in Mrs. Wilcox's

hearing, but she knew perfectly well what had given rise to these

ridiculous reports. It was the conspicuous attention which Sir Peter had

insisted on paying Mrs. Nevill Tyson. Not that there was anything to be

objected to in an old gentleman's frank admiration for a young (and

remarkably pretty) married woman. No doubt Sir Peter had been very

indiscreet in his expression of it. What with calling on her in private

and paying her the most barefaced compliments in public, he had made her

the talk of the county. Mrs. Wilcox went further: she was firmly

convinced that Sir Peter had fallen a hopeless victim to her daughter's

attractions, and she had derived a great deal of gratification from the

flattering thought. But now that Molly was being compromised by the old

fellow's attentions, it was another matter.

That anybody else could have compromised her by his attentions did not

once occur to Mrs. Wilcox. By its magnificent unlikelihood, the idea that

Sir Peter Morley, M.P., was fascinated by her daughter extinguished every

other. So possessed was Mrs. Wilcox by the idea of Sir Peter that she had

never thought of Stanistreet. In any case Stanistreet was the last person

she would have thought of. He came and went without her notice, a

familiar, and therefore insignificant, fact of her daily life.

Of course Molly was a desperate little flirt; but it was absurd that her

flirtations should be made responsible for "this temporary separation."

(That was the mild phrase by which Mrs. Wilcox described Tyson's

desertion of his wife.) As for her encouraging Sir Peter in her husband's

absence, that was all nonsense. Mrs. Wilcox was a woman of the world, and

she would have passed the whole thing off with a laugh, but that, really,

the reports were so scandalous. They actually declared that her daughter

had been seen going about with Sir Peter in the most open and shameless

manner, ever since she had been left to her own devices.

Well, Mrs. Wilcox could disprove that by the irrefragable logic of

facts.

It was high time something should be done. Her plan was to go quietly and

call on Miss Batchelor, and mention the facts in a casual way. She would

not mention Sir Peter.

So with the idea of Sir Peter in her head and a letter from Molly in

her pocket, Mrs. Wilcox called on Miss Batchelor. There was nothing

extraordinary in that, for the ladies were in the habit of exchanging

half-yearly visits, and Mrs. Wilcox was about due.

She stood a little bit in awe of a woman who took up all sorts of

dreadful subjects as easily as you take up an acquaintance, and had such

works as "The Principles of Psychology" lying about as the light

literature of her drawing-room table. But Miss Batchelor was much more

nervous than her visitor, therefore Mrs. Wilcox had the advantage at

once.




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