'Yes, but what do they say?'
'They say you are desperately in love with Fred Scully.'
'Supposing I were; is there any very great harm in that?'
'I only want to put you on your guard, May dear; and since I have come here for the purpose of speaking out, I had better do so, however unpleasant it may be; and I must say that you often forget yourself when he is in the room, and by your whole manner betray your feelings. You look at him—'
'You needn't talk. Now that Harding has left town, these moral reflections come very easy to you!'
Alice blushed a little; she trembled, and pursuing her advantage, May said:
'Oh, yes; I have watched you in the Castle sitting out dances; and when girls like you butter! 'Pon my word, it was painful to look at you.'
'Mr. Harding and I talked merely of books and pictures.'
'If you come here to insinuate that Fred and I are in the habit of indulging in improper conversation. . . . I didn't expect this from you. I shan't stop another moment. I shan't speak to you again.'
Picking up her novel, and deaf to all explanations, May walked haughtily out of the room. Alice would have given much to help; and, her heart filled with gentle disappointment, she returned home. The evening was spent in packing; and next morning at dawn, looking tired, their eyes still heavy with sleep, the Bartons breakfasted for the last time in Mount Street.