Maud almost laughed. "When does he arrive?" she asked.
"This evening. He has asked us to reserve a room for him." Mrs. Sheppard had speedily developed a proprietary interest in the management of the hotel. Its welfare had become far more engrossing than that of her children.
Maud opened the door. "We shall be gone by that time. Jake's finding us rooms somewhere in the town."
Mrs. Sheppard held up her hands. "Jake finding rooms! Maud! how--scandalous! How do you know--you don't know!--that he is to be trusted?"
Maud made a brief gesture as of one who submits to the inevitable. "I trust him," she said, with that in her voice that stilled all further protest.
And with the words she passed with finality out of her mother's room, and went away upstairs without a backward glance.
Mrs. Sheppard sat down and shed a few petulant tears over her child's waywardness. "She never would listen to advice," was the burden of her lament. "If she had, she would have been happily married to Lord Saltash by now, and I might have had my house in London to-day. Oh dear, oh dear! Children are a bitter disappointment. They never can be made to see what is for their own good. She'll rue the day. I know she will. That trainer man has a will of iron. He'll break her to it like one of his horses. My poor, proud Maud!"
CHAPTER XV
THE CLOSED DOOR
A way of escape! A way of escape! How often during the hours of that endless day were those words in Maud's mind. They pursued her, they mocked her, whichever way she turned.