'No.'

'So much the better. O, it is not worth thinking of; just one of those
articles written to order, to please the narrow-minded set of subscribers
upon whom the circulation depends. But he's upset by it. He says it is
the misrepresentation that hurts him so; that, though he can stand a fair
attack, he can't stand lies that he's powerless to refute and stop from
spreading. That's just Trewe's weak point. He lives so much by himself
that these things affect him much more than they would if he were in the
bustle of fashionable or commercial life. So he wouldn't come here,
making the excuse that it all looked so new and monied--if you'll
pardon--'

'But--he must have known--there was sympathy here! Has he never said
anything about getting letters from this address?'

'Yes, yes, he has, from John Ivy--perhaps a relative of yours, he
thought, visiting here at the time?'

'Did he--like Ivy, did he say?'

'Well, I don't know that he took any great interest in Ivy.'

'Or in his poems?'

'Or in his poems--so far as I know, that is.'

Robert Trewe took no interest in her house, in her poems, or in their
writer. As soon as she could get away she went into the nursery and
tried to let off her emotion by unnecessarily kissing the children, till