'What has she done?' she said, looking at him curiously. 'Well, one thing,
she has got it reported that--that I am in love with you, and that that is
the reason of my illness.'

'I am sure she never said any such thing. You are entirely mistaken. Mrs.
Bentley is incapable of such wickedness.'

'A woman, when she is jealous, will say anything. If she did not say it,
can you tell me how it got about?'

'I don't believe any one ever said such a thing.'

'Oh yes, lots have said so--things come back to me. Julia always was
jealous of me. She cannot bear me to speak to you. Have you not noticed how
she follows us? Do you think she would have left the room just now if she
could have helped it?'

'If you think this is so, had she not better leave?'

Emily did not answer at once. Motionless she lay on the sofa, looking at
the grey November day with vague eyes that bespoke an obsession of
hallucination. Suddenly she said, 'I do not want her to go away. She would
spread a report that I was jealous of her, and had asked you to send her
away. No; it would not be wise to send her away. Besides,' she said, fixing
her eyes, now full of melancholy reproach, 'you would like her to remain.'

'I have said before, Emily, and I assure you I am speaking the truth, I
want you to do what you like. Say what you wish to be done, and it shall be
done.'