"Oh, my dear, there is no use our quarrelling like two fishwives. Sit down and let us talk."
"We have nothing to talk about, said Claudia, refusing to obey, for by this time she had taken a deep dislike to Lady Wyke.
"Oh, but we have. Let us leave Mr. Craver on one side for the time being. I told your father that I would call and see you. I am sorry for you."
"Really. And why?"
"Because, by my reappearance and my husband's death you have lost a title and a good income. I wish to make amends."
"I refuse to allow you to make amends."
"Now that I see you"--Lady Wyke put up her lorgnette again--"I am not surprised. But your father wants money to compensate him for failure, and I came here to offer it.
"My father is not at home," said Miss Lemby, coldly. "If you will make an appointment you and he can talk the matter over. With my father's concerns I have nothing to do."
Lady Wyke silently acknowledged that she was beaten, for the time being at all events. Nevertheless, she as silently determined to get the whip hand of this haughty girl and make her pay for such insolence. The little woman liked no one to be insolent but herself. Still, for the moment she veiled her enmity with Judas smiles. "We part friends, I hope?" she said, with her sweetest expression.
"No," returned Claudia, uncompromisingly. "We part as we met--merely as acquaintances."