"Yes; that is all. What more should there be? The poor old house at Perivale will be shut up, I suppose."
"I don't care about the old house much, as it is not to be your house."
"No;—it is not to be my house certainly."
"There were two ways in which it might have become yours."
"Though there were ten ways, none of those ways have come my way," said Clara.
"Of course I know that you are so close that though there were anything to tell you would not tell it."
"I think I would tell you anything that was proper to be told; but now there is nothing proper,—or improper."
"Was it proper or improper when Mr. Belton made an offer to you,—as I knew he would do, of course; as I told you that he would? Was that so improper that it could not be told?"
Clara was aware that the tell-tale colour in her face at once took from her the possibility of even pretending that the allegation was untrue, and that in any answer she might give she must acknowledge the fact. "I do not think," she said, "that it is considered fair to gentlemen to tell such stories as that."
"Then I can only say that the young ladies I have known are generally very unfair."