"I saw her three weeks ago. She is very much hurt by your behaviour."
"Broken-hearted, I should think!"
"Well, she's queer enough, I grant you, and not over-motherly, but--she
_is_ your mother when all's said and done."
The girl watched the kettle boil and said nothing.
"Tommy is coming on wonderfully with his violin, isn't he?" pursued
Carron.
"Yes."
"Does he come here often?"
She looked up, frowning. "You know perfectly well that he has _never_
been here," she returned shortly. "Do you like your tea strong?"
"Yes, please, no milk. Well--you must miss him."
"And you know perfectly well that I see him twice a week at Joyselle's."
Carron took his cup with trembling hands and set it down carefully on
the table.
"You needn't snap my head off," he observed.
"No. But why play comedy? Mother has told you all about it, so I can't
see the use of this sort of humbug."
He was silent for a moment, and then began in a new voice. "Brigit,
I--I really have something to say to you."
"What is it?"
"It's this. That day--the last time I saw you, you know, your mother was
standing up for you when you came in. She--refused to believe me when I,
when I----"
"I know. But when I came in she was----"
"She was simply being good to me. Look here, Brigit, really and truly,
she was. She _went_ for me when I said--that. And your coming in in a
temper was what--upset the apple-cart."
Brigit raised her eyebrows.
"Right. Now let's talk about something else. When did you see Tommy?"
"A week ago. He is in town now."
"I know. I shall see him to-morrow."
"At Joyselle's?"
"Yes."
"Brigit--you can see what a wreck I am. Tell me. Are you going to marry
that boy?"
"I am."
"When?"
"In October."
"Then----"
She rose. "I am a model of patience, Gerald, but you have asked enough
questions."
"But--well, I am sorry I was such a beast. Can you endure seeing me once
in a long time--say once a month? It--it may make life possible to
me--don't say that you don't see the necessity for that! Brigit----"
"But it is so useless, Gerald, and so painful----"
"No. And I can tell you all kind of things about people--you must be
lonely! Tommy is only a kid after all, and doesn't hear--By the way, why
does he never come here?"
She hesitated. "Do you really not know?" Then, seeing sincerity in his
eyes, she went on. "Well--Joyselle made me promise mother that."
"_Made_ you!"
"Yes. He--you see he is old-fashioned. And--well, in two words he said
that unless I promised he--he--would not teach Tommy or even see him!"