Harrington stared at her with surprise. “You are not well enough yourself.”
“Quite well enough in body to go anywhere.”
“Well, but—” said Harrington.
She caught him up impatiently. “Surely you cannot object to my visiting Aunt Maitland. She is dangerously ill. I had a second letter this morning—see.” And she held him out a letter.
Harrington was in a difficulty. He felt sure this was not her real motive; but he did not like to say so harshly to an unhappy girl. He took a moderate course. “Not just now, dear,” said he.
“What! am I to wait till she dies?” cried Zoe, getting agitated at his opposition.
“Be reasonable, dear. You know you are the mistress of this house. Do not desert me just now. Consider the position. It is a very chattering county. I entertain Mademoiselle Klosking; I could not do otherwise when she was nearly killed in my hall. But for my sister to go away while she remains here would have a bad effect.”
“It is too late to think of that, Harrington. The mischief is done, and you must plead your eccentricity. Why should I bear the blame? I never approved it.”
“You would have sent her to an inn, eh?”
“No; but Miss Gale offered to take her.”