Lady Ruth was scarcely herself. She was dressed in a high-necked muslin gown, and she wore a hat and veil, which somewhat obscured her features. The latter she raised, however, as she accepted the chair which Wingrave had placed for her. He saw then that she was pale, and her manner betrayed an altogether unfamiliar nervousness. She avoided his eyes.
“Did you expect me?” she asked.
“Yes!” he answered, “I thought that you would come.”
Her foot, long and slender, beat impatiently upon the ground. She looked up at him once, but immediately withdrew her eyes.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked in a low tone.
“My dear Lady Ruth!” he protested.
“If you want to play at being friends,” she said, “for heaven’s sake call me Ruth. You found it easy enough once.”
“You are very kind,” he answered. “Ruth, by all means.”
“Now will you answer my question?” she said. “Do you mean—to help us?”
“Us—no!” he answered; “you—perhaps yes!” he added.