"And will cousin Hermione come with us?"
The opportunity of giving that proud girl a set-down was irresistible. "Of course," Francesca answered decisively. "This house is to be shut up, and left in charge of Milton. We shall all go."
"I beg your pardon. I shall not!"
Julia looked frightened, for the suppressed voice spoke of no ordinary passion. Hermione stood upright, her blue eyes blazing with anger, her face crimson. Not one of the three had seen her thus before.
Mrs. Trevor laughed. "Oh! You will stay with the Fitzalans, I suppose."
"That will be as I choose to decide. Your advice will not be asked."
Mrs. Trevor was not easily disconcerted, and to be conscious of power over Hermione was what she had long desired. She showed no annoyance at the very haughty utterance, but lifted her light eyebrows with a half-droll, half-contemptuous air.
"Really? Well, advice is a cheap commodity. But I don't know what I can have said to rouse so much ire! Do you, Julia?"
"Francesca, do be quiet—don't go on, pray!" implored Julia, in a undertone.
"Not go on with what? My dear, I shall begin to think you are both a little demented. Effect of Westford air, perhaps. I merely made known Harvey's decision. If anybody has a right to be vexed, it is yourself; for not having been told first. As for Hermione and me—why, we merely have to obey orders. If Harvey settles to go to East Bourne, I supposed it to be a matter of course that we should go too."