those two figures united. Many, many little things came to her mind
as she sat there, moments when the cook had breathlessly and in a
sudden heat betrayed some unexpected agitation, moments when her
father had shown confusion, moments when she had fancied whispers,
laughter behind walls, scurrying feet. She entwined desperately her
hands together as pictures developed behind her eyes.

Ah! but she was ashamed, most bitterly ashamed!

The rest of the interview came to her only dimly. She knew that
Uncle Mathew was still upon his feet protesting, that her aunt's
face was cold and wore a look of distressed surprise as though some
one had suddenly been rude to her.

From very, very far away came Mr. Brassy's voice: "I was aware that
this could not be agreeable, Miss Cardinal. But I am afraid that,
under the circumstances, there is nothing to be done. As to undue
influence I think that I should warn you, Mr. Cardinal, that there
could be very little hope . . . and of course the expense . . . if I
may advise you . . ."

The voice sank away again, the room faded, the air was still and
painted; like figures on a stage acting before an audience of one
Maggie saw those grotesque persons . . .

She did not speak one word during the whole affair.

After a time she saw that Mr. Brassy was not in the room. Her aunt
was speaking to her: