"Have you never been to the High House since?"
"Only once. It was after I heard that Phil--that his engagement was broken off. It is not a visit that I care to remember. I think I was half crazed with grief for him. Anyway, I felt that I could bear it no longer, and I went and practically forced myself into Lady Louisa's presence. I did not know her very well, she was not the sort of woman any one ever knew well--very cold in manner and reserved--and I had always been afraid of her, but I forgot my fear that day. I have a horrid recollection of being very foolish--of begging her upon my knees to let me do some little thing, even the smallest, for him--and finally of creeping out of the house humbled and despairing, with my whole world in pieces. It had been pretty well shattered before that. I don't know that Lady Louisa was unkind to me, but if she was she had every excuse; and, poor soul, I know how she must have felt--like a tigress defending her young. For it was then that all sorts of rumours were rife about him. People said that he was hopelessly mad--that he had tried to murder her--that he had been taken away to an asylum--and heaven knows how many more lies. And of course she must have thought, and with good reason, that I was an hysterical idiot. Well, I quarrelled with my aunt over it--not the interview, she knew nothing of that, but over the gossip. You can imagine what food for talk in the village, and most of it was her fault, and I was maddened by it.
"This went on for two years. I could not bear to go away, and yet there was no use in staying, for little by little all news of him ceased. Those servants who were known to have gossiped were dismissed, and their places filled by others who could be trusted to be silent.
"The old nurse, who would, I know, have told me, never went outside the grounds, and all the talk had so disgusted me that, with all my longing to know, I don't think I could have questioned a servant.
"Then my aunt died suddenly, and I had to leave. I had no money, and in consequence no choice in the matter. I joined my father, who was at that time in Canada, and remained with him, travelling all over the world wherever his fancy took him until his death three years ago. By that time I had made enough money by my books to know that a livelihood was assured to me, and I came here.