“Why?” Her beautiful gray eyes were fixed in indignant astonishment on her companion’s face.
“I have decided that I cannot receive his visits any longer.”
She was trembling. Lilian mistook this for a sign of fear.
“Do you not consider my introduction a sufficient assurance that a gentleman is worthy of the honor of your acquaintance?”
“Not in this case,” said Annie, looking at her steadily.
“Explain what you mean.”
“Certainly. I have the strongest reason for believing that you introduced Colonel Richardson to me and led me to think he was unmarried, because your friends, who knew more about him than I, disapproved of the acquaintance for you.”
Lilian rose quickly from her seat, and seemed to be attempting to quell the smaller woman by her dignified appearance.
“You have insulted me grossly—shamefully! I suppose I have deserved it for condescending so far to you as I have done.”
“You forget,” Annie said, simply, without any show of either timidity or arrogance. “Two months ago you might have talked to me of condescension, for I was then only Miss Lane, the governess. Now I am Mrs. Harold Braithwaite, your brother’s wife, your equal, and your superior—for the present—as a married woman.”