"I saw you, sly-boots; so you needn't deny it," put in Gwendolen, with a spiteful laugh. "It was passing strange how our demure Jane chanced to have a proposal, was it not? Do you know, mamma, Ethel Brantwood told me this morning that that man had been seen tagging Jane all over London. It is quite the common talk."
"Oh!" cried Jane, wringing her hands. "What shall I do?"
"Do not attempt to hoodwink me longer, unhappy girl," pursued Lady Agatha. "Your deceit, ingratitude, and vulgar intrigues are all laid bare. I have not decided what I shall do with you. It appears"—dramatically—"that locks and bars are no barriers to you. My commands you defy, my counsels you ignore, my affections you trample under foot!"
"Stop, Aunt Agatha!" cried Jane. "I did climb out of the window after you had locked me in—I wish now that I had fallen on the conservatory roof and killed myself; you wouldn't have minded anything but the broken glass—but you must believe that I never saw Mr. Towle on the street before. He has followed me about; he told me so this morning. But he never spoke to me once, and I did not know it. I never have thought of seeing him."
"How extremely ingenuous and naive!" put in Gwendolen, with an ugly titter; "quite after the pattern of a cheap variety actress, indeed! I wonder, mamma, that Mr. Towle took the pains to propose marriage to Jane in the dull, old-fashioned way. He might as well have eloped without ceremony."
Jane stared at her cousin, her face slowly whitening. "Do you realize what you have said to me, Gwendolen?" she asked in a stifled voice. "Yes. I see that you do. If you were a man I should—kill you. But you are only you, so I shall content myself by never speaking to you again."
"Gwendolen, my love, will you kindly leave us for a few minutes," said Lady Agatha, very calm and stately. "I cannot permit your young ears to be sullied by this mad talk. Really, I fear that the unfortunate girl's reason has been—" She paused significantly and touched her forehead. "I am told there has always been a marked weakness in her mother's family. Go, my love, go!"
"I shall go, too," said Jane bitterly. "I have nothing more to say to you, Aunt Agatha. I have told you the exact truth, and you may believe it or not as you like." She turned and followed Gwendolen out of the room.
That young lady, hearing the step behind her, fled with a hysterical shriek to the shelter of her mother's room. "What do you think, mamma, the creature was actually pursuing me!" Jane heard her say.
Then Jane went slowly up the stairs to her own room, where she remained quite alone and undisturbed for the remainder of the day. At intervals, during the course of the dreary afternoon, she could hear faint sounds of opening and shutting doors below stairs. Once Percy's loud voice and the clatter of his stout little shoes appeared to be approaching her room; then some one called him in a subdued voice; there was a short altercation carried on at a gradually increasing distance; then silence again.