"Why not?"
"I don't like her."
"Why don't you like her? You used to be friends. Have you quarrelled?"
"Yes; I have quarrelled with her."
"What did she do?" Mary was silent. "Is it a secret?"
"Yes, papa; it is a secret. I would rather you would not ask. But she is a nasty vile creature, and I will never speak to her again."
"That is strong language, Mary."
"It is. And now that I have said that, pray don't talk about her any more."
The Dean was discreet, and did not talk about Mrs. Houghton any
more; but he set his mind to work to guess, and guessed something near the truth. Of course he knew that his son-in-law had professed at one time to love this lady when she had been Miss De Baron, and he had been able to see that subsequently to that they had been intimate friends. "I don't think, my dear," he said, laughing, "that you can be jealous of her attractions."