The Hut scene was again before her mind's eyes, vividly as if at that moment it was being enacted. She heard again her own talk with Amy; saw herself stand up in displeasure; caught afresh the words called out as she retreated—
"Much better confess that your poor little heart has been taken captive! I have it now! Of course—it's that Mr. Ivor! Wretched man, to rob me of my Bee!"
Words which—if Ivor chanced to be awake—could not fail to reach his ears! In which case he could say nothing!
At the time she had met this knowledge calmly. The after terror for his life had dwarfed its importance; and when he was safe, the after joy and relief carried her through their first meeting.
But now, at the thought of again seeing him, she was far more keenly affected by this realisation of what he might have overheard. Fear had her in its grip lest, when in his presence, she should fail to hold herself well in leash. How if he were indifferent, and if she should betray the fact that she was not indifferent? How if some look or word of hers should reveal that Amy's utterance had been true, while yet he could not respond? It would be too dreadful.
Extreme care would be necessary, not to go one inch farther than she intended—or than he would go. She Would have to be simple, natural, easy, kind—no more. And with Amy present, the difficulty would be magnified tenfold.
Till this hour she had not known the strength of the hold that he had upon her; the overwhelming intensity of her love for him. Would she have power to go through such an ordeal, and to emerge triumphant?
Bee almost felt that she could not endure the strain—that she must somehow make her escape.
But if he did care—if he were coming with the expectation of seeing her—how could she be absent?