youth and her natural charm, nothing more than common friendliness. Her
note was nothing; he let me see it."

"I don't think you've heard every word she has said to him," Mrs.
Pallant returned with an emphasis that still struck me as perverse.

"No more have you, I take it!" I promptly cried. She evidently meant
more than she said; but if this excited my curiosity it also moved, in a
different connexion, my indulgence.

"No, but I know my own daughter. She's a most remarkable young woman."

"You've an extraordinary tone about her," I declared "such a tone as I
think I've never before heard on a mother's lips. I've had the same
impression from you--that of a disposition to 'give her away,' but never
yet so strong."

At this Mrs. Pallant got up; she stood there looking down at me. "You
make my reparation--my expiation--difficult!" And leaving me still more
astonished she moved along the terrace.

I overtook her presently and repeated her words. "Your reparation--your
expiation? What on earth are you talking about?"

"You know perfectly what I mean--it's too magnanimous of you to pretend
you don't."

"Well, at any rate," I said, "I don't see what good it does me, or what
it makes up to me for, that you should abuse your daughter."