But turning to enforce her orders, the Baroness discovered that Miss Wynward had quitted the room.
“Why! where ’as the woman gone? Did you see ’er leave the room, ’Arriet?”
“I did not! I was too much occupied listening to you,” replied the girl from the table, where she was inditing the answer to Anthony Pennell’s note.
“’Ere, Miss Wynward! Miss Wynward!” screamed the Baroness from the open door, but no reply came to her call.
“I must go and see after ’er!” she said, as she stumped from the room, as intent upon procuring a good dinner for one young man, as she had been in insulting the other, and turning him from her doors.
Meanwhile Captain Hill, hot and angry, was striding away in the direction of his own home, when he heard a soft voice calling his name in the rear. He turned to encounter the spare, humiliated form of Miss Wynward.
“Captain Hill,” she ejaculated, “I beg your pardon, but may I speak to you for a moment?”
Recognising her as having been in the room, when the Baroness had so grossly insulted him, he waited rather coldly for her to come up with him.
“Don’t think me impertinent or interfering,” faltered Miss Wynward, “but I was so shocked—so distressed—I could not let you go without saying how grieved and sorry I am!”
“I do not quite understand you,” replied Captain Hill.