Mary seemed to see the question which I could not ask.
"He laughed a little about it," she said, in a low voice. "We agreed how absurd it was of Mrs. Hammond to invent such a story; for of course it could not be true. But, Kitty—"
She stopped again, and my heart went down, down.
"Kitty, I never can be sure if Walter means or does not mean exactly what he says, or whether he tells me the whole. I don't know whether you have found out yet that he does sometimes—that he is not perfectly straightforward. At first I understood that he had only just heard this bit of foolish talk, and then he let slip that he had known it from the first. I can't help being afraid that he may, perhaps, in some way have acted upon it—may have treated you as if—"
I think she hardly knew what to say, and what not to say, for she stopped again. She wanted to find out more, yet she did not want to put into my head any fancies not there already. I kept my face turned away, and would not speak.
"Kitty, did he?" she whispered.
Then I looked round suddenly.
"He has always been kind," I said. "Kinder than Rupert. I think it is a shame of Mrs. Hammond to say such things. I shall never like Mrs. Hammond again."
"No, you will hardly trust her," Mary said. But I fancy she had expected something different from me. She sat still, looking thoughtful, even sad; and I made an excuse about wanting cotton, and so got away. I felt so wretched, I could bear no more.
Yet all this did not shake my belief in Mr. Russell. If he meant to keep it a secret about what he and I felt for each other, or what I thought we felt, he was likely to try to put his sister off the scent. No doubt he found that Mrs. Hammond's gossip was getting to be known, and so he told Mary himself to be beforehand. I did wonder whether it was that story coming out which helped to settle him so sudden to leave the place.