Mary went on: “Are we then to hear no more of these delightful revelations? Considering that the Mr. Starbrow whose name has been brought into the case happens to be my brother—”
She said no more, for just then Fan burst into tears.
“Oh, you are unkind, both of you, to say such things, when you know—when you know—”
“That there is no truth in them?” interrupted Mary. “Then, my dear girl, why take it to heart?”
“You brought it on yourself, Fan,” said Constance.
“No, Constance, it was all your doing. Even Mary never said a word till you began it.”
“Even Mary—who is not as a rule responsible for her words,” said that lady vindictively.
“I shall not stay here any longer,” exclaimed Fan, picking up her book and attempting to rise.
But the others put out their arms and prevented her.
“Dear Fan,” said Constance, “let us say no more to vex each other; the remark I made was a very harmless one. And you forget, dear, that I am different to you and Mary—that words about some things, though spoken in jest, may hurt me very much.” After a while she continued hesitatingly—“I am sure that neither of you will return to the subject when you know how I feel about it. I shall never love again. To others my husband is dead, but not to me; his place can be taken by no other.”