"As you like, dear, as you like," muttered Mrs. Agar, apparently abandoning the argument, whereas in reality she had not yet begun it.
"How do you do, dear Mrs. Martin?" she went on in the same breath, bowing and smiling to a lady who passed them at that moment.
"Of course," she said, returning in a final way to the question after a few moments' silence, "of course I do not believe all I hear; in fact, I contradict a good deal. But I have been told that gossips talked about you a good deal last year, at the time of Jem's death. I think it only fair that you should know."
"Of course, dear, _I_ didn't believe anything about it."
"What do you mean, Aunt Anna?" she asked with determination.
"Oh, nothing, dear, nothing. Don't get flurried about it."
"I am not at all flurried," replied Dora quietly. "You said that you would be sorry to have to believe what gossips said of me last year at the time of Jem's death--"
"Dora," interrupted Mrs. Agar, "I never said anything against you in any way; how can you say such a thing?"
"And," continued Dora, with an unpleasant calmness of manner, "I must ask you to explain. What did the gossips say, and why should you be sorry to have to believe it?"
Mrs. Agar's reluctance was not quite genuine nor was it well enough simulated to deceive Dora.
"Well, dear," she said, "if you insist, they said that there had been something between you and Jem--long, long ago, of course, before he went out to India."
"They are welcome to say what they like."
Mrs. Agar was silent, awaiting a second question.
"And why should you be sorry to believe that?" inquired the girl.
"I--I hardly like to tell you," said Mrs. Agar, in a low voice.
Dora waited in silence, without appearing to heed Mrs. Agar's reluctance.
"I am afraid, dear," went on the elder lady, when she saw that there was no chance of assistance, "that we have been all sadly mistaken in Jem. He was not--all that we thought him."
"In what way?" asked Dora. She had turned quite white, and her lips were suddenly dry and parched. She held her parasol a little lower, so that Mrs. Agar could not see her face. She was sure enough of her voice. She had had practice in that.
"In what way was Jem not all that we thought him?" she repeated evenly, like a lesson learnt by heart.