Wilhelmina regarded her contemptuously.
“Your ideas of what constitutes gentlemanly behaviour are probably primitive,” she said. “I do not think that I need trouble you for any direct answer. Still, it would be better for you to give it.”
The girl was again silent. There was a knock at the door. The footman ushered in Stephen Hurd.
He entered confident and smiling. He was wearing a new grey tweed suit, and he was pleased with himself and the summons which had brought him to London. But the sight of the girl took his breath away. She, too, was utterly taken by surprise, and forgot herself.
“Stephen!” she exclaimed, taking a quick step towards him.
“You! You here!” he answered.
It was quite enough! But what puzzled Letty was that Wilhelmina did not seem in the least angry. There was a strange look on her face as she looked from one to the other. Something had sprung into her eyes which seemed to transform her. Her voice, too, had lost all its hardness.
“How do you do, Mr. Hurd?” she said. “I hope you have come to explain how you dared let this child lose her train last night.”
“I—really I—it was quite a mistake,” he faltered, darting an angry glance at Letty.
“You had supper with her,” Wilhelmina said, “and you knew what time the train went.”