"At all events," goes on Tessie, "when you made up your mind to marry my son, you——"
"It was your son who married me," says Tita, with a touch of hauteur that sits very prettily on her. She feels suddenly stronger—more equal to the fight.
"Was it? I quite forget"—Tessie shrugs her shoulders—"these little points," says she. "Well, I give you that! Oh! he was honest!" says she. "But, after all, not quite honest enough."
"I think he was honest," says Tita.
Her heart is beginning to beat to suffocation. There is a horror in her mind—the horror of hearing again that he—he had loved Marian. But how to stop it?
"You seem to admire honesty," says Lady Rylton, with a sneering laugh. "It is a pity you do not emulate his! If Maurice is as true to you as you"—with a slight laugh—"imagine him, why, you should, in common generosity, be true to him. And this flirtation, with this Mr. Hescott——"
"Don't go on!" says Tita passionately; "I cannot bear it. Whoever has told you that I ever—— Oh!" She covers her eyes suddenly with her pretty hands. "Oh! it is a lie!" cries she.
"No one has told me a lie," says Lady Rylton implacably.
The sight of the girl's distress is very pleasant to her. She gloats over it.
"Then you have invented the whole thing," cries Tita wildly, who is so angry, so agitated, that she forgets the commonest decencies of life. We all do occasionally!