"I blame myself—I blame myself," said Delia. "I should have made things clear."
"Oh, no. You mustn't think that. Why, you were the one person who ever lifted a hand to undeceive me. It was my fault. I was too arrogantly sure of my own righteousness to listen. I was too much set on living up to other people's expectations of me. You—you always——" She swallowed heavily, but went on. "Do you know, you've always meant a lot to me—I think—I think I used to sort of idealize you—as the person I might have been if I had not been such a fool."
"Me, Muriel?"
"Yes—er—it was impertinent, wasn't it?" Again she laughed, and rising hurriedly began to draw her gloves on, blushing and shy. "Good-bye, it has been most awfully good of you to talk to me like this. I—I shan't forget it. Please will you say good-bye to Mr. Vaughan for me?"
Delia turned from the tea-tray.
"Where are you going?"
"Going? Back—home—to Miller's Rise," said Muriel with surprise.
"Oh, no, you're not," commanded Delia. "Sit down a minute."
"But I'm keeping you—I——"
"No, I'm going to keep you. Please sit down."