That she had been foolish Keith knew; that she had been wicked he did not believe.  She was self-willed, vain, extravagant; but deep under her cold exterior burned fires of which she had once or twice given him a glimpse; and he believed that her deepest feeling was ever for Norman.

When he reached Mrs. Wentworth’s house he was fortunate enough to find her at home.  He was shown into the drawing-room.

When Mrs. Wentworth entered the room, Keith was conscious of a change in her since he had seen her last.  She, too, had heard the clangor of the evil tongues that had connected their names.  She greeted him with cordial words, but her manner was constrained, and her expression was almost suspicious.

She changed, however, under Keith’s imperturbable and unfeigned friendliness, and suddenly asked him if he had seen Norman.  For the first time real interest spoke in her voice and shone in her face.  Keith said he had seen him.

“I have come to see if I could not help you.  Perhaps, I may be able to do something to set things right.”

“No—­it is too late.  Things have gone too far.  We have just drifted—­drifted!” She flung up her hands and tossed them apart with a gesture of despair.  “Drifted!” she repeated.  She put her handkerchief to her eyes.

Keith watched her in silence for a moment, and then rising, he seated himself beside her.

“Come—­this is all wrong—­all wrong!” He caught her by the wrist and firmly took her hand down from her eyes, much as an older brother might have done.  “I want to talk to you.  Perhaps, I can help you—­I may have been sent here for the purpose—­who knows?  At least, I want to help you.  Now tell me.”  He looked into her face with grave, kind eyes.  “You do not care for Ferdy Wickersham?  That would be impossible.”

“No, of course not,—­except as a friend,—­and Norman liked another woman—­your friend!” Her eyes flashed a sudden flame.

“Never! never!” repeated Keith, after a pause.  “Norman is not that sort.”

His absolute certainty daunted her.

“He did.  I have reason to think—­” she began.  But Keith put her down.

“Never!  I would stake my salvation on it.”

“He is going to get a—­try to get a divorce.  He is willing to blacken my name.”

“What!  Never.”

“But you do not know the reasons I have for saying so,” she protested.  “If I could tell you—­”

“No, and I do not care.  Doubt your own senses rather than believe that.  Ferdy Wickersham is your authority for that.”

“No, he is not—­not my only authority.  You are all so hard on Ferdy.  He is a good friend of mine.”

“He is not,” asserted Keith.  “He is your worst enemy—­your very worst.  He is incapable of being a friend.”

“What have you against him?” she demanded.  “I know you and he don’t like each other, but—­”

“Well, for one thing, he deceived a poor girl, and then abandoned her—­and—­”