"Mahomet would not come to the mountain, so the mountain has to come to Mahomet," replied Audrey, with an anxious smile.
"But, my dear girl, it isn't right, and you--"
"Oh! never mind appearances," she interrupted feverishly. "No one knows me as I wear this thick veil. Let me in, Ralph, I have much to say to you."
Shawe immediately conducted her into his sitting-room. There was nothing else to be done, as he knew that Audrey could be obstinate when she chose, and would refuse to depart without an explanation. Moreover--and this almost banished the enormity of her visit from his mind--he dreaded lest she should have learnt something which he particularly did not wish her to know. The young man felt sure that she really might have gained the forbidden knowledge, since she had dared to take such a bold step.
"Sit down here, dear," he said, wheeling forward a comfortable armchair. "You look pale; let me give you a glass of wine."
"No, I don't want any wine. I feel all right."
"But, Audrey," said Ralph, who could scarcely conceal his dismay, "how did you escape Mrs. Mellop and your father?"
"Mrs. Mellop has gone home," explained the girl, with a faint smile, as she thought of the little widow's discomfiture, "and my father was busy in his library. I slipped out quietly."
"But you should not have come here, darling. Think of what the world will say. It is so rash."
"I don't care what the world says," retorted Audrey, crossly. "The world is doing nothing for me that I should consider it. You blame me for coming to see you, when you have broken two appointments with me."