Isobel turned white, as though stung by a sudden apprehension. She looked towards me, and I took her hand in mine. Lady Delahaye smiled unpleasantly upon us both.
"You mean," I said, "that you wish to take her away from us?"
"Wish!" Lady Delahaye repeated coldly. "I can assure you that I am not consulting my own wishes upon the subject at all. What I am doing is simply my duty. The child had better get her hat on."
Isobel did not move, but she turned very pale. Her eyes seemed fastened upon mine. She waited for me to speak. The situation was embarrassing enough so far as I was concerned, for Lady Delahaye was obviously in earnest. I tried to gain time.
"May I ask what your intentions are with regard to the child? You intend to take her to your home—to adopt her, I suppose?"
Lady Delahaye regarded me with cold surprise.
"Certainly not," she answered. "I shall find a fitting position for her in her own station of life."
"May I assume then," I continued, with some eagerness, "that you know what that is? You are acquainted, perhaps, with her parentage?"
She returned my gaze steadily.
"I may be," she answered. "That, however, is beside the question. I intend to do my duty by the child. If you have been put to any expense with regard to her, you can mention the amount and I will defray it. I have answered enough questions. What is your name, child—Isobel? Get ready to come with me."