"I know he does. Did you see that he would hardly speak to me this evening, and——"
"I thought it was you who would not speak to him."
"Oh no, no! I was longing to speak to him. I can't bear being bad friends with anyone; but, of course, I could not go up to him, and tell him so; and he—what did he do?—he spent the whole evening with Mrs. Bethune in the conservatory."
"Tita, I assure you he was not alone with her then. Mrs.
Chichester——"
"I don't care about his being alone with her," says Tita, whose mind is as fresh as her face. "He was with her all the evening; you know he was. Oh, how I hate that woman!"
"Tita, listen——"
"Yes; I hate her. And——" She stops and lays her hands on Margaret's arm and looks piteously at her. "Do you know," says she, "I used not to hate people. I thought once I hated my uncle, but I didn't know. It was nothing like this. It is dreadful to feel like this."
There is poignant anguish in the young voice. It goes to Margaret's heart.
"Tita, be sensible," says she sharply. "Do you think all the misery of the world is yours?"
"No, no," faintly. "Only my portion is so heavy."