"My little delicate Keith!" Theodosia nearly choked with wrath.
Dr. Bryant glanced from Keith's rosy cheeks to Lettice's white ones. "It will not do," he repeated. "I don't insist on the best spare room. We may need that occasionally, I suppose." This was a reluctant concession, for he hated visitors. "But one room on that floor it has to be. Either Keith's, or your little sitting room, or the room next to it."
"My boudoir! Thanks! I am very much obliged. Keith is not going upstairs! And I can't spare that other room. I want it in a hundred ways."
"One of the three it must be. Lettice will sleep in the spare room until you have made up your mind. Will you give orders to that effect—or shall I?"
"I have nothing to do with the matter."
Lettice again remonstrated, but in vain. Dr. Bryant rang the bell, ordered the best spare room to be at once prepared, asked which boxes would be required for immediate use, and withdrew. He seemed to be unconscious of Theodosia's white-heat of fury. She held it in till he was gone: then, regardless of the boy's presence, she turned upon Lettice with a fierce—"You little—toad!"
Lettice was startled to an upright position. She had a feeling of being stunned, as with a blow. "But what can I do? How can I help it?" she asked. "I did not mean to make trouble. I would not have complained."
"Complained! I should think not! What right have you to anything here, pray? Not even a relation! What are you to any of us? To want the best spare room! Oh, I understand you, for all your innocent looks. It's easy to come over my husband: but you won't come over me! I advise you to be careful, or you will have cause to repent."
"I don't know what you mean! Indeed, I only wish to do what you like," pleaded Lettice.
"I dare say! I know how much that is worth! But it won't pay! Sooner or later my husband will find you out. And mind—if you say one word to him of this I—Come along, my sweet! Come along with me."