"How do you know this?"
"Oh, it's well known, it's all over the place. Mrs. Creery had a letter," glancing over to where that lady reclined in a comfortable chair, with a serene expression on her face, and a gently-nodding diadem.
"Mrs. Creery," said Mrs. Durand, raising her voice, which was singularly clear and penetrating, "pray what is this story that you have been telling every one about Mr. Lisle?"
This warlike invocation awoke the good lady from her doze, and, like a battle-steed, she lifted her head, and, as it were, sniffed the conflict from afar!
"I've been telling nothing but the truth, Mrs. Durand"—rousing herself at once to an upright position—"and you are most welcome to hear it, though he is a friend of yours," and she tossed her diadem as much as to say "Come on!"
"Thank you! Then will you be so very kind as to repeat what you have heard," returned Mrs. Durand with a freezing politeness that made the other ladies look at each other significantly. There was going to be a fight, and they felt a thrill of mingled delight and apprehension at the prospect.
Bold Mrs. Durand was the only woman in the island who had never veiled her crest to Mrs. Creery. She was now about to challenge her to single combat—yes, they all saw it in her face!
"I always knew that there was something very wrong about that man," began the elder lady in her usual formula, and figuratively placing her lance in rest. "People who have nothing to hide, are never ashamed to speak of their concerns, but no one ever got a word out of Mr. Lisle, and I am sure he received every encouragement to be open! He was in the army, he admitted that against his will, and that was all. He never deceived me;—I knew he was without any resources, I—knew he was out at elbows, I knew——"
"Pray spare us your opinion, and tell us what facts you have to go upon," interrupted Mrs. Durand, calmly cutting short this flow of denunciation.
"I have a letter from a friend at Simla," unconsciously seeking her pocket, "a letter," she retorted proudly, "which you can read, saying that he was cashiered for conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman, that he is a bankrupt, and a swindler, and a married man," as if this last enormity crowned all.