A narrow, purely personal view inevitably embodies an order of logic calculated to carry conviction; and Theresa, even in defeat, retained a degree of self-opinionated astuteness.

She presented her case effectively.

To be discharged, and that in disgrace, to be rendered homeless, cast upon the world at a moment's notice, for that which--with but trifling, almost unconscious, manipulation of fact--could be made to appear as nothing worse than a venial error of judgment, did really sound and seem most unduly drastic punishment.
Miss Verity's first instinct was to fling herself into the breech; and, directly her brother emerged from his room, demand for her _protegee_ redress and reinstatement.

Her second instinct was--she didn't, in truth, quite know what--for she grew sadly perplexed as she listened.
Her sympathy, in fact, split into three inconveniently distinct and separate streams.

Of these Theresa's woes still claimed the widest and deepest, since with Theresa she was in immediate and intimate contact.
Yet the other two began to show a quite respectable volume and current, as she pictured Damaris marooned on the Bar and Sir Charles ravished away from the seasonable obligation of partridge shooting to take his place at his daughter's bedside.
"But this young Captain Faircloth, of whom you speak," she presently said, her mind taking one of its many inconsequent skippits--"who so providentially came to the dearest child's assistance--could he, I wonder, be the same really very interesting-looking young man I met in the drive, just now, when I came here ?" And Miss Verity described him, while a pretty stain of colour illuminated her cheek once more.
"You think quite possibly yes ?--How I wish I had known that at the time.
I would certainly have stopped and expressed my gratitude to him.