"Thank you. I prefer to remain in the garden and take up as little of your time as possible."
Mrs. Snow stiffened. "What an extraordinary tone to take with me," she said, with the offended air of a thorough egotist.
"Can you wonder at it? We know so little of one another."
"That is, as it may be," snapped Mrs. Snow, wondering what her visitor had come to see her about. "I may know more of you than you think."
"For that reason I come to see you," said Beatrice calmly.
Her hostess started, but speedily recovered her calmness. "I really do not know what you mean, Miss Hedge," she said composedly.
"I think you know this much, that I am not Miss Hedge."
"Oh!" said Mrs. Snow, her sallow face flushing an uneasy red. "Will you not be seated?"
"Thank you." Beatrice moved towards a garden seat at the far end of the lawn; but Mrs. Snow touched her arm, and pointed to a side-path.
"I have a very secluded arbour there," she said significantly, "where we cannot be overheard." And she led the way down the path.