And it is largely your fault. It is almost as if you
were acting with some purpose. But I'll tell you this--whatever your
purpose may be--you have no right to expose your wife to comment."
She had his full attention now. The cigarette haze drifted away.
"Comment?" slowly. "You mean that people--but of course people
always do. I hadn't allowed for that. Which shows how impossible it
is to think of everything. I'm sorry."
"I do not pretend to understand you, Benis. But then, I never did.
Your private affairs are your own, also your motives. And I never
meddle, as you know. I think though, that I may be permitted a
straight question. Has your feeling toward Desire changed?"
"Neither changed nor likely to change."
Miss Campion's expression softened.
"Are you sure that she knows it?"
"I am not sure of anything with regard to Desire."
"Then you ought to be. Don't shilly-shally, Benis. It is a habit of
yours. All of the Spences shilly-shally. Make certain that Desire is
aware of your--er--affection. Mark my words--I have a feeling. She
is fretting over Mary."
"I happen to know that she is not."
Small red flags began to fly from Miss Campion's prominent cheek-
bones.
"We shall quarrel in a moment, Benis. You are pig-headed. Exactly as
your father was, and without his common sense. I know you think me
an interfering old maid. But I like Desire, and I won't have her
made miserable. I want--"
"Hush--here she comes.
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