Muriel knew then what was coming. She knew too that she herself must say it.
"Is he engaged to Clare yet?"
Mrs. Neale turned upon her. "You knew?"
"Clare was my friend," said Muriel.
"She wrote to you?"
Muriel shook her head.
"I have not heard from her since she wrote to tell me of her engagement to Signor Alvarados."
"Then how did you know? Godfrey wrote?" Mrs. Neale's dark eyes flashed an accusation at her, as though she said, "You little fool, why couldn't you hold him? You had your chance, and you would have been inoffensive. If he had married you, he would still have been mine. You could never have stolen him from me, and now he has gone. You little fool."
"I knew that he was in love with her. I knew that she had returned to England. He loved her from the time that he first met her. And he has been accustomed to get what he wants."
"That was a boy and girl affair. And, then, she's so unsuitable. A girl like that would never settle down to the country. She'll paint the drawing-room yellow with black stripes and fill the house with Italian tenors and try to be Bohemian. Godfrey would hate it."