“I have brought Mr. Macheson to see you, Mrs. Foulton,” Wilhelmina said. “We want you to give us some tea—and there is a question which I think you ought to ask him.”
The woman was trembling. She seemed for the moment to have no words.
“If you like,” Wilhelmina continued calmly, “I will ask it for you. Did you know, Mr. Macheson, that Letty Foulton has left home and has gone away without a word to her mother?”
“I did not know it,” Macheson answered gravely. “I am very sorry.”
“You—didn’t know it? You don’t know where she is?” the woman demanded fiercely.
“Certainly not,” Macheson answered. “How should I?”
The woman looked bewildered. She turned towards Wilhelmina as though for an explanation.
“Mr. Macheson has himself to blame,” Wilhelmina said, “if his action in bringing your daughter to me that night has been misunderstood. At any rate, he cannot refuse to tell you now what he refused to tell me. You understand, Mr. Macheson,” she added, turning towards him, “Mrs. Foulton insists upon knowing with whom you found her daughter having supper that night in London.”
Macheson hesitated only for a moment.