'What terrible thing?'
'Sex-Antagonism.'
'It's here.'
'Don't say that!' Lady John spoke very gravely.
'You're so conscious it's here, you're afraid to have it mentioned.'
Lady John perceived that Jean had quietly slipped away from the others, and was standing behind her.
If Mrs. Heriot had not been too absorbed in Dick Farnborough and Hermione she would have had a moment's pleasure in her handiwork—that half-shamed scrutiny in Jean Dunbarton's face. But as the young girl studied the quiet figure, looked into the tender eyes that gazed so steadily into some grey country far away, the effect of Mrs. Heriot's revelation was either weakened or transmuted subtly to something stronger than the thing that it replaced.
As the woman sat there leaning her head a little wearily on her hand, there was about the whole Wesen an indefinable nobility that answered questions before they were asked.
But Lady John, upon perceiving her niece, had said hurriedly—
'If what you say is so, it's the fault of those women agitators.'