off supporting her if he 'll let her off supporting you."
Mrs. Beale appeared, however, to have done injustice to her daughter's financial grasp. "And support me himself?" Maisie asked.
"Take the whole burden and never let her hear of you again. It 's a regular signed contract."
"Why, that 's lovely of her!" Maisie cried.
"It 's not so lovely, my dear, but that he 'll get his divorce."
Maisie was briefly silent; after which, "No—he won't get it," she said. Then she added still more boldly: "And you won't get yours."
Mrs. Beale, who was at the dressing-glass, turned round with amusement and surprise. "How do you know that?"
"Oh, I know!" said Maisie.
"From Mrs. Wix?"
Maisie hesitated; then, after an instant, was determined by Mrs. Beale's absence of anger, which struck her the more as she had felt that she must take her courage in her hands. "From Mrs. Wix," she admitted.
Mrs. Beale, at the glass again, made play with a powder-puff. "My own sweet, she 's mistaken!" was all she said.
