“No,” replied Lois, in a low, constrained voice.
“Is it too late to speak to her now?”
Lois shrank back.
“I know it would be best,” she said; “and yet—and yet I do not like to speak to her until I have something more definite to say. She has always been kind and good to me; but you must remember that she has been my mistress, far above me in every respect; and I can scarcely——I know I am wrong, ungrateful, and yet——”
Blanche smiled, and shrugged her pretty shoulders almost imperceptibly.
“I understand,” she said, very softly. “I suppose Captain Desfrayne will explain himself to her. I wonder much he has not tried to do so to-night. He might easily have found, or made, an opportunity. You have told me exactly what he said?”
“Word for word. It seems imprinted on my memory, and every sentence seems still sounding in my ears. I suppose I was so startled that it made a particular impression on me.”
“Shall I tell you what my opinion is? Probably within a few days—perhaps to-morrow—you will learn the truth. But may I hazard a guess?”
“Pray tell me what you think, my dear friend.”
Blanche fixed her eyes on the pale face of Lois.