crimes--Isabel had always treated her from the level of her own
high nature. But Mrs. Conyers had accepted this dutiful demeanor
of the years as a tribute to her own virtues. Now that Isabel, the
one person whose respect she most desired, had openly avowed deep
distrust of her, the shock was as real as anything life could have
dealt.

She glanced narrowly at Isabel: the girl had forgotten her.

Mrs. Conyers could shift as the wind shifts; and one of her
characteristic resources in life had been to conquer by feigning
defeat: she often scaled her mountains by seeming to take a path
which led to the valleys. She now crossed over and sat down with a
peace-making laugh. She attempted to take Isabel's hand, but it
was quickly withdrawn. Fearing that this movement indicated a
receding confidence Mrs. Conyers ignored the rebuff and pressed her
inquiry in a new, entirely practical, and pleasant tone:

"What is the meaning of all this, Isabel?"

Isabel turned upon her again a silent, searching, wretched look of
appeal.

Mrs. Conyers realized that it could not be ignored: "You know that
I promise anything. What did I ever refuse you?"

Isabel sat up but still remained silent. Mrs. Conyers noted the
indecision and shrugged her shoulders with a careless dismissal of
the whole subject: