Once before, years ago, she had behaved with the same piteous docility; and that was when, a short-frocked hoiden, she had fallen from an apple tree and badly hurt herself, and Marigold had carried her into the house and Mrs.
Marigold had put her to bed....
In the morning I found her calm and sedate at the breakfast table.
"You've been and gone and done for both of us, Majy dear," she remarked, pouring out tea.
"What do you mean ?" "Our reputations.

What a scandal in Wellingsford!" She looked me clearly in the eyes and smiled, and her hand did not shake as she held my cup.

And by these signs I knew that she had taken herself again in grip and forbade reference to the agony through which she had passed.
Quickly she turned the conversation to the Tuftons.

What had happened?
I told her meagrely.

She insisted on fuller details.