Since the trip to Brusa on the “Leyla” she had thought a great deal about Dion Leith, and she was very sorry for him in a rather unusual way. Out of her happiness with her husband she seemed to draw an instinctive knowledge of what such a nature as Dion Leith’s wanted and of the extent of his loss. Once she said to Sir Carey, with a sort of intensity such as she seldom showed:
“Good women do terrible things sometimes.”
“Such as——?” said Sir Carey, looking at her almost with surprise in his eyes.
“I think Mrs. Leith has done a terrible thing to her husband.”
“Perhaps she loved the child too much.”
“Even love can be almost abominable,” said Lady Ingleton. “If we had a child, and you had done what poor Dion Leith has done, do you think I should have cast you out of my life?”
“But—are you a good woman?” he asked her, smiling.
“No, or you should never have bothered about me.”
He touched her hand.
“When you do that,” Lady Ingleton said, “I could almost cry over poor Dion Leith.”