"You must take it from me that your anxiety rests quite on a misconception.

You must take it from me that I've never at any moment fancied I could suffer by you." And, marvellously, she kept it up--not only kept it up, but improved on it.

"You must take it from me that I've never thought of you but as beautiful, wonderful and good.

Which is all, I think, that you can possibly ask." Charlotte held her a moment longer: she needed--not then to have appeared only tactless--the last word.

"It's much more, my dear, than I dreamed of asking.