When he repeated Haskett's request a flame of anger passed over her
face; but she subdued it instantly and spoke with a slight quiver of
outraged motherhood.

"It is very ungentlemanly of him," she said.

The word grated on Waythorn. "That is neither here nor there. It's a
bare question of rights."

She murmured: "It's not as if he could ever be a help to Lily--"

Waythorn flushed. This was even less to his taste. "The question
is," he repeated, "what authority has he over her?"

She looked downward, twisting herself a little in her seat. "I am
willing to see him--I thought you objected," she faltered.

In a flash he understood that she knew the extent of Haskett's
claims. Perhaps it was not the first time she had resisted them.

"My objecting has nothing to do with it," he said coldly; "if
Haskett has a right to be consulted you must consult him."

She burst into tears, and he saw that she expected him to regard her
as a victim.

Haskett did not abuse his rights. Waythorn had felt miserably sure
that he would not. But the governess was dismissed, and from time to
time the little man demanded an interview with Alice. After the
first outburst she accepted the situation with her usual