"And so it was because of that, Aunt Jeannie," she whispered, "because you had promised Diana that you would do your best to keep it from me?"
"Yes, my darling, but I have failed," said Jeannie.
"But how splendidly," whispered Daisy. "I should like to have f-failed like that. And you were content that I should think you a b-beast, and that he should?"
"No, dear, not content quite. But it was the best I could think of."
"And Mr. Braithwaite?" said Daisy. "Could you be content that he should think so?"
Jeannie paused a moment before she replied. What she must say, if she answered this, would hurt Daisy again, but again there was healing there.
"I knew he would never think me a beast," she said at length. "I knew he trusted me absolutely."
"And I didn't," said Daisy.
"No, dear, you didn't. But never mind that."
"I can't help minding that. I thought—I thought everything disgusting about you. Oh, Aunt Jeannie, but I did try so much not to! I did try to behave well, to realize that you and he had fallen in love with each other, and that it was neither your fault nor his. But when Aunt Alice told me that you were engaged to Mr. Braithwaite, then I broke down. And when you told me you had known that I hoped to marry Lord Lindfield, then it was complete to my mind. I thought—oh! I have spoilt it all. It can never be the same again. And I did so long for you to come home a week ago. I did love you."