"I am so sorry," responded Lesbia politely. "But I was not dressed to receive anyone, and your visit is unexpected."
Maud laughed contemptuously. "You knew that I would come," she declared with conviction. "You have been looking out for me every day."
"You say so," said Lesbia, still graciously, for since the last interview at Henley, she had changed her tactics with Miss Ellis. "Will you not be seated? This chair is most comfortable, it has its back to the light."
"I don't need to sit with my back to the light," flashed Maud indignantly.
"Oh, I beg pardon, but from that lorgnette I thought that your eyes might be weak. Sit here then, in the full warmth of the sunshine."
But Miss Ellis knew better than to let the searching light reveal her age too clearly to her hostess. "I'll sit here," she declared abruptly, and came to rest on the sofa.
"That's right," said Lesbia caressingly, "It's a nice shady corner."
Maud bit her lip, knowing perfectly well that Lesbia was casting a reflection on her age. But having taken the seat she could scarcely leave it without laying herself open to further pointed remarks, so she remained where she was and came to the object of her visit at once. "What do you mean by writing me this letter?" she demanded, producing the epistle of her hostess.
"I mean to show you that your plot to part George and myself has failed."
Miss Ellis crushed up the letter savagely. "Has it," she inquired, "seeing that you have broken your engagement?"