to wish that I should stay on with you even if that woman is capable—?"
Maisie took her up before she could further phrase Mrs. Beale's capability. "Stay on as my companion—yes; stay on as just what you were at mamma's. Mrs. Beale would let you!" the child proclaimed.
Mrs. Wix had by this time fairly sprung to her arms. "And who, I 'd like to know, would let Mrs. Beale? Do you mean, little unfortunate, that you would?"
"Why not?—if now she ' s free."
"Free? Are you imitating him? Well, if Sir Claude 's old enough to know better, upon my word I think it 's right to treat you as if you also were. You 'll have to, at any rate—to know better—if that's the line you're proposing to take." Mrs. Wix had never been so harsh, but, on the other hand, Maisie could guess that she herself had never appeared so wanton. What was underlying, however, rather overawed than angered her; she felt she could still insist not for contradiction, but for ultimate calm. Her wantonness meanwhile continued to work upon her friend, who caught again, on the rebound, the sound of deepest provocation. "Free, free, free? If she's as free
