"Well, was it _I_, pray, who perpetrated the wrong? Ain't I doing what I
can to get the thing arranged?"
The ring of his question made his anger at Mona almost resemble for a
minute an anger at Fleda; and this resemblance in turn caused our young
lady to observe how handsome he looked when he spoke, for the first time
in her hearing, with that degree of heat, and used, also for the first
time, such a term as "perpetrated." In addition, his challenge rendered
still more vivid to her the mere flimsiness of her own aid. "Yes, you've
been perfect," she said. "You've had a most difficult part. You've _had_
to show tact and patience, as well as firmness, with your mother, and
you've strikingly shown them. It's I who, quite unintentionally, have
deceived you. I haven't helped you at all to your remedy."
"Well, you wouldn't at all events have ceased to like me, would you?"
Owen demanded. It evidently mattered to him to know if she really
justified Mona. "I mean of course if you _had_ liked me--liked me as
_she_ liked me," he explained.
Fleda looked this inquiry in the face only long enough to recognize
that, in her embarrassment, she must take instant refuge in a superior
one. "I can answer that better if I know how kind to her you've been.
_Have_ you been kind to her?" she asked as simply as she could.
"Why, rather, Miss Vetch!" Owen declared. "I've done every blessed thing
she wished. I rushed down to Ricks, as you saw, with fire and sword, and
the day after that I went to see her at Waterbath." At this point he
checked himself, though it was just the point at which her interest
deepened. A different look had come into his face as he put down his
empty teacup. "But why should I tell you such things, for any good it
does me? I gather that you've no suggestion to make me now except that I
shall request my solicitor to act. _Shall_ I request him to act?"
Fleda scarcely heard his words; something new had suddenly come into her
mind. "When you went to Waterbath after seeing me," she asked, "did you
tell her all about that?"