The door opened—without a preliminary knock, this time—and Mrs. Enderby came in. She turned the key behind her, and, without a word, went over to the bed and pulled off the covers. Then she went into the adjoining bathroom and started the water running in the tub. This done, she sat down at the table and began to eat the breakfast on the tray.
Lexy stood watching all this with indignation and a sort of horror.
“All she cares about is keeping up appearances,” the girl thought. “The only thing that worries her is that some one might find out. She doesn’t know where poor Caroline is—and she can sit down and eat! I’m comparatively a stranger, and even I—”
Lexy was an honest soul, however. The fragrance of coffee and rolls reached her, and she admitted in her heart that she, too, could eat, if she had a chance.
Mrs. Enderby was not going to give her a chance just yet. She finished her meal and rose.
“Now!” she said. “Just what is gone from here? We shall look.”
So they looked, in the wardrobe, in the drawers, even in the orderly desk. Very little was gone.
“And now,” said Mrs. Enderby, “you lent her—how much money, Miss Moran?”
“I never lent her a penny in my life,” replied Lexy.
Mrs. Enderby’s tone aroused a spirit of obstinate defiance in her. Those flashing black eyes were fixed upon her with an expression which did not please Lexy, and Lexy looked back with an expression which did not please Mrs. Enderby.