The lights had been turned up, and Gerard knew that old Mrs. Van Santen, from her corner of the room near the tea-table, was watching him and Miss Davison. These two were sitting close by the curtains of the wide window, partly hidden by one of them, indeed, though not sufficiently for the old lady not to be able to see that something very interesting was the subject of their conversation.
Gerard felt her eyes upon him, even when he was not looking at her; and presently, even while he was so much occupied with Rachel, he saw the old lady beckon Delia to her, and speak to her hurriedly, in a low voice.
In the meantime he turned to Miss Davison and answered her question after a short pause.
“I won’t distress you by arguing in the old way again,” he said. “But I can’t take your advice about going back to town immediately, though I know your counsel is good. I want to see it out.”
“To see what out?”
Miss Davison’s eyes were attracted too, by this time, in the direction of the old lady and Delia.
Gerard hesitated.
“Well, shall we say the sequel to last Sunday’s scene?”
At that Miss Davison remained quite silent for some moments, with her eyes cast down, and her hands lying immovable in her lap.
“I don’t understand,” she said at last.