Lady Frances looked at her mercilessly.
"I have been worrying so about his coming—worrying so about you."
"About me?"
Clodagh said the words consciously and uncomfortably.
"Yes. I feel so much for you—you, who are so sensitive. Clodagh!"—she laid her fingers lightly on Clodagh's arm—"Clodagh! I am your best friend. You believe that?"
"You—you have always been very good to me."
"And always shall be good to you. Look here!" Her voice suddenly took on the tone of seeming frankness that is the clever woman's best weapon. "I'm enormously fond of you—enormously fond of you. I should hate to see you hurt or—or——"
She paused judiciously.
"But who would hurt me? Why should I be hurt?"
"You shouldn't be, of course. But sometimes circumstances—chances—people—hurt one. Oh, my dear girl, I'm unhappy at this unlucky coming of Walter's. It's hard—it's really hard—on you."