“And that’s not going to be easy,” she reflected, “when I can’t explain to her. There’ll be a row. Well, I don’t care!”
She did care, however. She respected Mrs. Enderby, and in her secret heart she was a little afraid of her. She felt very young, very crude and blundering, in the presence of that masterful woman; and she doubted her own wisdom.
“But what can I do?” she thought. “He said he trusted me. I can’t tell her! No, first I’ll get her to let me off that promise, and I’ll go and tell that young man. Then I’ll make him let me off, and I’ll come and tell her. Golly, how I hate all this fool mystery!”
Mrs. Enderby was writing at her desk as Lexy entered the room. She glanced up, unsmiling.
“You are late,” she said. “I asked you to return in half an hour.”
“I’m sorry,” Lexy replied meekly.
“Very well! Now you will please to come with me.”
She rose, and Lexy followed her down the hall to Caroline’s room. Mrs. Enderby unlocked the door, and, when they had entered, locked the door on the inside.
“In fifteen minutes the car is coming,” she said. “I wish you to put on Caroline’s hat and coat and a veil, and leave the house with me.”
“You mean you want me to pretend I’m Caroline?” cried Lexy.