either view, and later on they said it. But they had other
questions before them now.

"Do you mean to tell me that Paul--"

But she did not like his voice. He sounded as if he was
talking to a porter, and, certain that he had deceived her
at the station, she too grew angry.

"Do you mean to tell me that Paul and your niece--"

Mrs. Munt--such is human nature--determined that she
would champion the lovers. She was not going to be bullied
by a severe young man. "Yes, they care for one another very
much indeed," she said. "I dare say they will tell you
about it by-and-by. We heard this morning."

And Charles clenched his fist and cried, "The idiot, the
idiot, the little fool!"

Mrs. Munt tried to divest herself of her rugs. "If that
is your attitude, Mr. Wilcox, I prefer to walk."

"I beg you will do no such thing. I'll take you up this
moment to the house. Let me tell you the thing's
impossible, and must be stopped."

Mrs. Munt did not often lose her temper, and when she
did it was only to protect those whom she loved. On this
occasion she blazed out. "I quite agree, sir. The thing is