jealous of the fact that Crozier had had close to him for so long and in
such conditions a girl like herself, younger than his own wife, and
prettier--yes, certainly prettier, she admitted to herself.

"He is that kind of a man. What he asked for, any good woman could give
and not be sorry," Kitty convincingly added when the knife had gone deep
enough.

"Yes, he was that kind of a man," responded the other gently now, and
with a great sigh of relief. Suddenly she came nearer and touched
Kitty's arm. "And thank you for saying so," she added. "He and I have
been so long parted, and you have seen so much more of him than I have of
late years! You know him better--as he is. If I said something sharp
just now, please forgive me. I am--indeed, I am grateful to you and your
mother."

She paused. It was hard for her to say what she felt she must say, for
she did not know how her husband would receive her--he had done without
her for so long; and she might need this girl and her mother sorely. The
girl was a friend in the best sense, or she would not have sent for her.
She must remind herself of this continually lest she should take wrong
views.

Kitty nodded, but for a moment she did not reply. Her hand was on the
baize-covered desk. All at once, with determination in her eyes, she
said: "You didn't use him right or you'd not have been parted for five
years. You were rich and he was poor, he is poor now, though he may be
rich any day, and he wouldn't stay with you because he wouldn't take your
money to live on. If you had been a real wife to him he wouldn't have
seen that he'd be using your money; he'd have taken it as though it was