Chapter 41 - Page 2

us; but after a time a thought came into my
head--Mary, listen to me, I can't tell you how it all came about--how I
found Constance--without speaking of him. Don't you think it would be
better to tell you everything, from my first chance meeting with him, and
all that was said as well as I can remember it now?"

Miss Starbrow had listened quietly, with averted face, which Fan imagined
must have grown very black; she was silent for some time, and at last
replied:

"Fan, I can hardly credit my own senses when you talk in that calm way
about a person who--of course I know who you mean. What are you made of,
I wonder--are you merely a wax figure and not a human being at all? Once
I imagined that you loved me, but now I see what a delusion it was; only
those who can hate are able to love, and you are as incapable of the one
as of the other."

After delivering herself of this protest she half turned her back on her
friend, and for a time there was silence between them, and then Fan
spoke.

"Mary, you have not yet answered me; am I to tell you about it or not?"

"You can tell me what you like; I have no power to prevent you from
speaking. But I give you a fair warning. I know, and it would be useless
to try to hide it, that you have great power over me, and that I could
make any sacrifice, and do anything within reason for you, and be glad to
do it. But if you go too far--if you attempt to work on my feelings about
this--this person, or try to make _me_ think that he is not--what I
think him, I shall simply get up and walk out of the room."

"You need not have said all that, Mary--I am not trying to work on your
feelings. I simply wanted to tell you what happened, and--how _he_
came to be mixed up with it."

As the other did not reply, she began her story, and related what had
happened at the Travers' dinner-party faithfully; although she was as
unable now to give a reason for her own strange behaviour as she had been
to answer Captain Horton when he had asked her what she had to say to
him.

At length she paused.

"Have you finished?" said Mary sharply, but the sharpness this time did
not have the true ring.

"No. If your name was mentioned, Mary, must I omit that part?--because I
wish to tell you everything just as it happened."

"You can tell me what you like so long as you observe my conditions."

But when the story was all finished she only remarked, although speaking
now without any real or affected asperity:

"I am really sorry for your friend Mrs. Chance. I could not wish an enemy
a greater misfortune than to be tied for life to such a one as Merton.
Poor