"Don't speak of it. Don't mention it," began poor Miss Carter, trembling all over.
"Well, she took Rosamund there, and Rosamund was strong and got the upper hand with her at once, and from that hour Irene has been different. It is true she has done terrible things. She behaved almost as badly to me as she did to you."
"Shall we walk down this shrubbery?" said Miss Carter. "The children are all quite happy. Every one who comes to the Rectory is happy, and you can hear by the shouts of the village children that they are in the very acme of bliss. Shall we walk down here and talk together? I have always been so amazed at your remaining on at The Follies, Miss Frost."
"I have a little sister called Agnes, and a little brother Hugh, and they are the dearest little children. They are only my step-brother and sister, of course; but they are to me just as though they were my very own. They depend on me altogether for their maintenance. I buy everything for them. I spend my holidays with them, and they love me. My darlings! They are like my own children. Were I to give up so good a situation my little ones would starve. You understand, Miss Carter, do you not, that under such circumstances one would endure a great deal?"
"But even under such circumstances," said Miss Carter, in astonishment, "I do not think people would put up with Irene Ashleigh as she used to be. Oh, never, never shall I forget how the boat dashed against the rocks! I thought my last moment had come."
"How did you escape drowning, dear?" said Miss Frost. "I never heard that part."
"It is more than I can tell you myself. I suppose I lost consciousness. When I came to myself I was on dry land, and Irene was dragging me back to the house; and then I had a terrible--most terrible--interview with Lady Jane. I told her that I would go at once, that nothing would induce me to stay. She was nearly in despair, and, metaphorically speaking, went on her knees to me. But I remembered my promise to that dreadful child, and stuck to my word. Go I would. I never saw Lady Jane in a temper before, but she was then. She refused to let me have a carriage. She said Irene's conduct was past bearing, and that I ought to stay if only to support her. But I couldn't, for my nerves were frightfully shattered. I went away as quickly as ever I could that very afternoon, intending to send a porter from the railway station for my luggage. Before I got half-way there I nearly fainted, and the dear, kind rector found me on the road. I told him my story, and he brought me home--yes, home, for this is indeed a complete and absolute home to me. I cannot tell you how kind they have been."