"It's a very pretty one," said McTaggart—"suits you, too. Such a jolly colour."
"You think so?" The little old lady was pleased and a slight flush warmed her face.
"I suppose," said McTaggart as the pause prolonged itself and he felt she was waiting to gather the object of his visit; "I suppose you've heard about ... Mrs. Uniacke?"
The moment the words had passed his lips he knew he had made a tactless start.
For his hostess bristled visibly.
"If you've called to plead for Mary," she said and her voice was short—"I had better tell you that I wash my hands of that affair! I've finished with them—the whole family!"
"Jill?" ...
"Yes——" she caught him up. "Jill, and Roddy—They might have guessed. They ought to have warned me long ago! It's their own fault—and I've done with them."
"Oh, no!" McTaggart's blue eyes were eloquent. "You don't mean it? You couldn't just now when they want you so." He saw a slight quiver cross her face. "And I want you—all your help! We can't get on without it, you know—Jill and I..."
She gave a start at the coupling together of the names.