but whatever it was, forgive and forget it. I am a wretched old woman,
heart sick, heart sore, worn out by pain and weariness. There are times
when I am beside myself; moments when I am not much saner than
Steadman's lunatic uncle. This is one of my worst days, and you came
bouncing in upon me, and tortured my nerves by your breathless torrent
of words. Pray forgive me, if I said anything rude.'

'If,' thought Mary: but she tried to be charitable, and to believe that
Lady Maulevrier's attack upon her was a new phase of hysteria, so she
murmured meekly, 'There is nothing for me to forgive, grandmother, and I
am very sorry I disturbed you.'

She was going to leave the room, thinking that her absence would be a
relief to the invalid, when Lady Maulevrier called her back.

'You were asking me something--something about that old man of
Steadman's,' she said with a weary air, half indifference, half the
lassitude natural to an invalid who sinks under the burden of monotonous
days. 'What was it all about? I forget.'

Mary repeated her request, but this time in measured tones.

'My dear, I am sure that Steadman was only properly prudent.' answered
Lady Maulevrier, 'and that it would never do for me to interfere in this
matter. It stands to reason that he must know his old kinsman's
temperament much better than you can, after your half-hour interviews
with him in the garden. Pray how long have these garden scenes been
going on, by-the-by?' asked her ladyship, with a searching look at
Mary's downcast face.