Mrs. Carteret stared over her spectacles at Molly in absolute amazement.  After fourteen years of very kind treatment, which had involved a great deal of trouble, this uninteresting, silent niece had revealed herself at last!  Fourteen years devoted to the idealisation of the mother who had deserted her, and to positive hatred of the relation who had mothered her!  Tears rose in the hard, blue eyes.  Subtleties of feeling Anne Carteret did not know, but some affection for those who are near in blood and who live under the same roof had been a matter of course to her, and Molly had hurt her to the quick.  However, it was natural that common-sense and justice should quickly assert themselves to show this idiotic girl the criminal absurdity of what she said.  Mrs. Carteret was unconsciously hitting back as hard as she could as she answered in a tone of cheerful common-sense: 

“As a matter of fact, the money you will receive will not be your own, but an allowance from your mother—­a large allowance given on the condition that you do not live with her.  Happily, it is so large that there will not be any necessity for you to live here.”

Mrs. Carteret held up the letter of thin foreign paper in a trembling hand, but she spoke in a perfectly calm voice: 

“I was myself always against this mystery as to your mother, but I felt obliged to act by her wish in the matter.  She insists that she still wishes it to be thought by the world at large that she is dead, but she agrees at last that you should know something about her.  I told her that I could not allow you to come of age here and have a great deal of money at your disposal without your knowing that from your father you have only been left a fortune of two thousand pounds——­”

Mrs. Carteret paused, and then, with a little snort, added, half to herself: 

“The rest was all squandered away, and certainly not by his own doing.”

Then she resumed her business tone: 

“More than this, I obtained from your mother leave to tell you that this very large allowance comes out of a fortune left to her quite recently by Sir David Bright.  I have acted by the wishes of both your parents as far as I possibly could.  As to my disliking you or being ashamed of you, such notions could only come out of a morbid imagination.  In spite of your feelings towards me, I still wish to be your friend.  I want your father’s daughter to stand well with the world.  So that I am left to live here in peace undisturbed, I shall be glad to help you at any time.”

Mrs. Carteret’s feelings were concentrated on Molly’s conduct towards herself, but Molly’s consciousness was filled with the greatness of the blow that had just fallen.  It seemed to her that she had only now for the first time lost her mother—­her only ideal, the object of all her better thoughts.  That her enemy was justified was, indeed, just then of little importance.  She turned a dazed face towards her aunt: