“It seems to me that the hardest things said were spoken by you.”

“Then I will beg your pardon.  I am impulsive.  I do not restrain myself.  When I am angry I say I know not what.  If I said any words that were wrong, I will apologize, and beg to be forgiven—­there—­On my knees.”  And, as she spoke, the adroit little woman contrived to get herself down upon her knees on the floor of the carriage.  “There; say that I am forgiven; say that Sophie is pardoned.”  The little woman had calculated that even should her Julia pardon her, Julia would hardly condescend to ask for the two ten-pound notes.

But Lady Ongar had stoutly determined that there should be no further intimacy, and had reflected that a better occasion for a quarrel could hardly be vouchsafed to her than that afforded by Sophie’s treachery in bringing her brother down to Freshwater.  She was too strong, and too much mistress of her will, to be cheated now out of her advantage.  “Madam Gordeloup, that attitude is absurd; I beg you will get up.”

“Never; never till you have pardoned me.”  And Sophie crouched still lower, till she was all among the dressing-cases and little bags at the bottom of the carriage.  “I will not get up till you say the words, ‘Sophie, dear, I forgive you.’”

“Then I fear you will have an uncomfortable drive.  Luckily it will be very short.  It is only half-an-hour to Yarmouth.”

“And I will kneel again on board the packet; and on the—­what you call, platform—­and in the railway carriage—­and in the street.  I will kneel to my Julie everywhere, till she say, ‘Sophie, dear, I forgive you!’”

“Madam Gordeloup, pray understand me; between you and me there shall be no further intimacy.”

“Certainly not.  No further explanation is necessary, but our intimacy has certainly come to an end.”

“It has.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Julie!”

“That is such nonsense.  Madam Gordeloup, you are disgracing yourself by your proceedings.”

“Oh! disgracing myself, am I?” In saying this Sophie picked herself up from among the dressing-cases, and recovered her seat.  “I am disgracing myself!  Well, I know very well whose disgrace is the most talked about in the world, yours or mine.  Disgracing myself; and from you?  What did your husband say of you himself?”

Lady Ongar began to feel that even a very short journey might be too long.  Sophie was now quite up, and was wriggling herself on her seat, adjusting her clothes which her late attitude had disarranged, not in, the most graceful manner.

“You shall see,” she continued.  “Yes, you shall see.  Tell me of disgrace!  I have only disgraced myself by being with you.  Ah—­very well.  Yes; I will get out.  As for being quiet, I shall be quiet whenever I like it.  I know when to talk, and when to hold my, tongue.  Disgrace!” So saying she stepped out of the carriage, leaning on the arm of a boatman who had come to the door, and who had heard her last words.