"But surely—it could!" said Judith.
"Ah, my dear young lady!"—was the answer—"little you know the amazing resources of legislation for deciding that the weaker party is in the wrong!"
But Judith did not want the conversation to become a review of the iniquities of Law, a subject on which she knew Athelstan Taylor was given to being in revolt against constituted authority. So she brought him back to the real issue before the house.
"You haven't told me what you think I ought to write, Mr. Taylor. Please don't send me away to ask somebody else!—that's such very cold comfort. Give me real advice. What can I say?"
It took a little time to decide, but was clear when it came. "The question, I take it, isn't whether the letter will do any good. I tell you honestly, I don't think it will. But Challis asks you to write, and that settles the matter. Well!—say you write at his request, and that he asks you to write exactly what happened. Do it as literally as possible."
"Say anything about how grieved I am—painful circumstances—hope to hear misunderstanding completely removed—anything of that sort?"
"Oh no!—no, on the whole, certainly not! Better keep off that as much as possible!"
"Won't it be rather like ... snuffing poor Mrs. Challis out, if I don't end up somehow?"
"Hm—well! Suppose we go so far as to hope this will help to remove ... to remove ... what seems a perfectly groundless misunderstanding. Stop it at that. Quite enough! And I say, Judith, look here! In writing to Mrs. Challis, don't you go and show that you've heard particulars of the row. Stick to the explanation of the letter-business. Don't on any account show you know she has left her home, or that he has told about it."
"Won't that be what Mr. Tomes calls suppressio veri?"