The Odd Women Part 79

'Is it possible that I can be of any service to you?'

'Yes. You might be. But--I find it is very difficult to say what I--'

Rhoda waited, offering no help whatever, not even that of a look expressing interest.

'Will you tell me, Miss Nunn, why you behave so coldly to me?'

'Surely that doesn't need any explanation, Mrs. Widdowson?'

'You mean that you believe everything Mr. Widdowson has said?'

'Mr. Widdowson has said nothing to me. But I have seen your sister, and there seemed no reason to doubt what she told me.'

'She couldn't tell you the truth, because she doesn't know it.'

'I presume she at least told no untruth.'

'What did Virginia say? I think I have a right to ask that.'

Rhoda appeared to doubt it. She turned her eyes to the nearest bookcase, and for a moment reflected.

'Your affairs don't really concern me, Mrs. Widdowson,' she said at length. 'They have been forced upon my attention, and perhaps I regard them from a wrong point of view. Unless you have come to defend yourself against a false accusation, is there any profit in our talking of these things?'

'I _have_ come for that.'

'Then I am not so unjust as to refuse to hear you.'

'My name has been spoken of together with Mr. Barfoot's. This is wrong.

It began from a mistake.'

Monica could not shape her phrases. Hastening to utter the statement that would relieve her from Miss Nunn's personal displeasure, she used the first simple words that rose to her lips.

'When I went to Bayswater that day I had no thought of seeing Mr.

Barfoot. I wished to see someone else.'

The listener manifested more attention. She could not mistake the signs of sincerity in Monica's look and speech.

'Some one,' she asked coldly, 'who was living with Mr. Barfoot?'

'No. Some one in the same building; in another flat. When I knocked at Mr. Barfoot's door, I knew--or I felt sure--no one would answer. I knew Mr. Barfoot was going away that day--going into c.u.mberland.'

Rhoda's look was fixed on the speaker's countenance.

'You knew he was going to c.u.mberland?' she asked in a slow, careful voice.

'He told me so. I met him, quite by chance, the day before.'

'Where did you meet him?'

'Near the flats,' Monica answered, colouring. 'He had just come out--I saw him come out. I had an appointment there that afternoon, and I walked a short way with him, so that he shouldn't--'

Her voice failed. She saw that Rhoda had begun to mistrust her, to think that she was elaborating falsehoods. The burdensome silence was broken by Miss Nunn's saying repellently,--

'I haven't asked for your confidence, remember.'

'No--and if you try to imagine what it means for me to be speaking like this--I am not shameless. I have suffered a great deal before I could bring myself to come here and tell you. If you were more human--if you tried to believe--'

The agitation which found utterance in these words had its effect upon Rhoda. In spite of herself she was touched by the note of womanly distress.

'Why have you come? Why do you tell me this?'

'Because it isn't only that I have been falsely accused. I felt I must tell you that Mr. Barfoot had never-that there was nothing between us.

What has he said? How did he meet the charge Mr. Widdowson made against him?'

'Simply by denying it.'

'Hasn't he wished to appeal to _me_?'

'I don't know. I haven't heard of his expressing such a wish. I can't see that you are called upon to take any trouble about Mr. Barfoot. He ought to be able to protect his own reputation.'

'Has he done so?' Monica asked eagerly. 'Did you believe him when he denied--'

'But what does it matter whether I believed him or not?'

'He would think it mattered a great deal.'

'Mr. Barfoot would think so? Why?'

'He told me how much he wished to have your good opinion That is what we used to talk about. I don't know why he took me into his confidence.

It happened first of all when we were going by train--the same train, by chance--after we had both been calling here. He asked me many questions about you, and at last said--that he loved you--or something that meant the same.'

Rhoda's eyes had fallen.

'After that,' pursued Monica, 'we several times spoke of you. We did so when we happened to meet near his rooms--as I have told you. He told me he was going to c.u.mberland with the hope of seeing you; and I understood him to mean he wished to ask you--'

The sudden and great change in Miss Nunn's expression checked the speaker. Scornful austerity had given place to a smile, stern indeed, but exultant. There was warmth upon her face; her lips moved and relaxed; she altered her position in the chair as if inclined for more intimate colloquy.

'There was never more than that between us,' pursued Monica with earnestness. 'My interest in Mr. Barfoot was only on your account. I hoped he might be successful. And I have come to you because I feared you would believe my husband--as I see you have done.'

Rhoda, though she thought it very unlikely that all this should be admirable acting, showed that the explanation had by no means fully satisfied her. Unwilling to put the crucial question, she waited, with gravity which had none of the former harshness, for what else Mrs.

Widdowson might choose to say. A look of suffering appeal obliged her to break the silence.

'I am very sorry you have laid this task upon yourself--'

Still Monica looked at her, and at length murmured,--

'If only I could know that I had done any good--'

'But,' said Rhoda, with a searching glance, 'you don't wish me to repeat what you have said?'