She bestowed a dazzling smile upon her fiancé and offered him one finger by way of salutation.
Abingdon, who had been waiting to get in a word, here exploded with some violence and told his young cousin in no measured terms what he thought of her conduct.
She listened with her head on one side, her eyes brimful of mischief, and finally with an airy gesture turned to Caryl.
"Don't you want to scold me, too? I am sure you do. You had better be quick or there will be nothing left to say."
Abingdon turned on his heel and walked away. He was thoroughly angry and made no attempt to hide it. His wife lingered a moment irresolute, then softly followed him. And as the door closed, Caryl looked very steadily into the girl's flushed face and spoke:
"All I have to say is this. Maurice Brandon is no fit escort for any woman who values her reputation. And I here and now forbid you most strictly, most emphatically, ever to go out with him alone again."
He paused. She was looking straight back at him with her chin in the air.
"Dear me!" she said. "Do you really? And who gave you the right to dictate to me?"
"You yourself," he answered quietly.
"Indeed! May I ask when?"