"Then why has she changed?"
"Because she 's an idiot. The reason she herself gives is that you 've been out too long."
Sir Claude stared. "What has that to do with it?"
"You 've been out an age," Mrs. Beale continued; "I myself couldn't imagine what had become of you. The whole morning," she exclaimed, "and luncheon long since over!"
Sir Claude appeared indifferent to that. "Did Mrs. Wix go down with you?" he only asked.
"Not she; she never budged!"—and Mrs. Beale's flush, to Maisie's vision, deepened. "She moped there—she did n't so much as come out to me; and when I sent to invite her she simply declined to appear. She said she wanted nothing, and I went down alone. But when I came up, fortunately a little primed,"—and Mrs. Beale smiled a fine smile of battle—"she was in the field!"
"And you had a big row?"
"We had a big row." She assented with a nod of the same size. "And while you left me to that sort of thing I should like to
