She looked at him, startled. It was the first time that he had adopted a tone of command towards her. Perhaps in her heart she was not altogether displeased, although for a few moments she was inclined to resent his interference.
But the truth came out in the end. She had just had a scene with Jack Treves, and she was furious with him, so she asserted, perfectly furious. He had been worrying her, making her life wretched, and now matters had come to a climax.
Mostyn did not guess that he was in any way the cause of this, nor did Rada care to admit the fact. The trouble, however, on the present occasion was more deeply seated.
It was due, in a great measure, to Daisy Simpson. Jack had refused to break off his intimacy with this young woman, even after his semi-engagement to Rada had become generally known, with the very natural result that tongues had wagged and scandal been hinted at. Daisy had finally put an end to all this by taking her departure for London with the avowed intention of going upon the stage.
Jack had raged furiously and unreasonably, nor had he made any secret of his annoyance. Since there was no definite engagement, he argued, between himself and Rada he was clearly justified in maintaining his old friendship; if there was any scandal about the matter it was the fault of Rada and her ridiculous decree, a decree which placed him in an absurd and quite anomalous position. He therefore demanded that the girl should consent to her engagement to him being officially announced.
Such had been the cause of the trouble, and Jack Treves had just been treated to a touch of Rada's temper. And, no doubt, to judge from her flashing eyes and the contemptuous curve of her lips, he had been badly worsted in the encounter.
Rada appeared somewhat relieved when she had unbosomed herself of her troubles. It was something new for her to find a confidant; under ordinary circumstances she would have gone straight home, and there, never having been accustomed to give way before her father or to tell him anything of her doings, she would have shut herself up in her own room to brood for hours together, or she might have saddled her mare and ridden away, just for the mere want of sympathy, as she often did when Captain Armitage happened to be in a particularly obnoxious frame of mind, or muddled from drink, now more often than ever the case.
These ideas flashed quickly through Mostyn's brain as, awkwardly enough, he attempted to speak words of consolation. All his heart went out in sympathy to the wayward girl. How could it be expected that Rada should be anything than just what she had become?
"I won't have it announced to all the world that some day I am going to be married to Jack," Rada cried, petulantly tapping the turf with an impatient little foot. "When I have said a thing I mean to abide by it, and I told Jack that there was to be no mention of any engagement between us till after next June. It's bad enough to think that I've got to be married at all——"
"Rada, do you really care for Jack?" The words were upon Mostyn's tongue, but he did not speak them. He was quite certain that Rada did not really care for Jack, but at the same time he had no reason to believe that she cared any better for himself. And what danger of harming himself in her eyes might he not be running if he suggested anything of the sort? Rada would only have two men bothering her, as she expressed it, instead of one. Far better for him to bide his time and let matters take their own course.