meet—and it will look as though we'd definitely taken her side, if anything comes out—and I believe that's what she wants. Egisto would be furious if he knew we were taking her about like that. Ernesto doesn't want her to go. And it's foolish from her own point of view—her only chance is in keeping quiet. I told her that, and she cried, and said we treated her as if she were a criminal, in disgrace. Well, so she is."
"The world is hard on women," said Teresa, after a pause. "Poor thing."
"You mean I'm hard on her? But I"
"No, I don't mean you, I mean society in general."
"Well, a woman can't be a fool, you know, without paying for it. We are held more strictly to account than men, if that's what you mean—but we all know it and know it must be so. I wish you'd talk to her, Teresa. She thinks I'm down on her, and Ernesto won't say a word. She'll take it from you—she likes you."
"Does she? I can't see why," said Teresa, reluctantly.
"Well, she does. Do make her see reason, there's a good soul. I'm fairly bothered out of my life. If she insists on going, I shall telegraph that the whole thing is off."
Teresa did not want the whole thing to be off, and, moved partly by this feeling and partly by pity for Nina, she went up to Edith's room. It
