“In any case,” Vandermere said, turning to his companion, “weren’t we going to Hurlingham this afternoon?”
“We were,” she said doubtfully, “but I think——”
She looked towards Saton. His face was inexpressive, but she seemed to read there something which prompted her words.
“I think that we must put off Hurlingham, if you do not mind,” she said to Vandermere. “I ought to go and see the Comtesse.”
“It is very kind of you,” Saton said slowly. “She will, I am sure, be glad to see you.”
Vandermere turned aside for a moment to exchange greetings with some acquaintances.
“Lois,” Saton said in a low tone, “you know I have told you that I do not like to see you so much with Captain Vandermere.”
“I cannot help it,” she answered. “He is always at the house. He is a great friend of Mr. Rochester’s. Besides,” she added, raising her eyes to his, “I like being with him.”
“You must consider also my likes and dislikes,” Saton said. “Think how hard it is for me to see you so very little.”
“Oh, you don’t care!” Lois exclaimed tremulously. “You know very well that you don’t care. It is all pretence, this. Why do you do it? Why do you make me so unhappy?”