“How miserable!  I can’t fancy living in such a predicament.”

“I am much afraid,” added the Colonel, looking over the papers, “that it explains the marriage—­and then Keith did not allow her as much as she expected.”

“Oh, Colonel Keith, don’t!” cried Rachel; “it is just the one thing where I could not bear to believe Alick.  She was so dear and beautiful, and spoke so rightly.”

“To believe Alick!” repeated the Colonel, as Rachel’s voice broke down.

“I thought—­I ought not to have thought—­he was hard upon her—­but he knew better,” said Rachel, “of course he did not know of all this dreadful business!”

“Assuredly not,” said the Colonel, “that is self-evident, but as you say, I am afraid he did know his poor sister’s character better than we did, when he came to warn me against the marriage.”

“Did he?  Oh how much it must have cost him.”

“I am afraid I did not make it cost him less.  I thought he judged her harshly, and that his illness had made him magnify trifles, but though our interference would have been perfectly useless, he was quite right in his warning.  Now that, poor thing, she is no longer here to enchant us with her witcheries, I see that my brother greatly suffered from being kept away from home, and detained in this place, and that she left him far more alone than she ought to have done.”

“Yes, Alick thought so, but she had such good reasons, I am sure she believed them herself.”

“If she had not believed them, she could not have had such perfect sincerity of manner,” said the Colonel; “she must have persuaded at least one half of herself that she was acting for every one’s good except her own.”

“And Mr. Clare, whom Alick always thought she neglected, never felt it.  Alick says he was too unselfish to claim attention.”

“I never doubted her for one moment till I came home, on that unhappy day, and found how ill Keith was.  I did think then, that considering how much she had seen of Alick while the splinters were working out, she ought to have known better than to talk of sciatica; but she made me quite believe in her extreme anxiety, and that she was only going out because it was necessary for her to take care of you on your first appearance.  How bright she looked, and how little I thought I should never see her again!”

“Oh, she meant what she said!  She always was kind to me!  Most kind!” repeated Rachel; “so considerate about all the dreadful spring—­not one word did she say to vex me about the past!  I am sure she did go out on that day as much to shelter me as for anything else.  I can’t bear to think all this—­here in this pretty room that she had such pleasure in; where she made me so welcome, after all my disagreeableness and foolishness.”

The Colonel could almost have said, “Better such foolishness than such wisdom, such repulsion than such attraction.”  He was much struck by Rachel’s distress, and the absence of all female spite and triumph, made him understand Ermine’s defence of her as really large-minded and generous.