“Not for very long. I’ll ring the bell for Anne to come back to you for half an hour,” said Sir Robert.
But the boy pouted.
“I don’t want Anne,” said he. “I can wait here by myself till Rhoda comes back. Don’t be long, don’t let papa keep you long,” he cried, waving his thin hand as she went out.
Rhoda smiled back at him, with a trembling lip. She would have given the world to avoid the interview which the baronet was determined to force upon her. There was a gravity in his look quite different from the calm serenity of his everyday expression; she knew that an ugly thought concerning his wife and Jack Rotherfield had been obtruded upon his mind for the first time.
Was it better that he should know the danger? Perhaps so. But in any case it was a terrible thing for the girl that she had unconsciously helped to bring it home to his mind. The boy’s innocent words might perhaps have passed unheeded, but for the point she herself had all unconsciously and unwillingly given them by her startled look.
And then, following that moment of revelation, there had come the speech about the picture, and again she thought that her face might perhaps have revealed some guilty knowledge concerning it.
They went slowly downstairs, Rhoda first, Sir Robert following in silence. It was not until they reached the hall that Sir Robert, taking a hat from the hall table, turned to her and said:
“Shall we take a turn round the garden? I want to speak to you.”
There was no help for it. She bowed her head, and they passed out quickly by the garden-door, for she understood that his intention was to avoid Lady Sarah and possible interruptions, to which they might have been liable if they had gone straight to the study.
He led the way quickly to the water, crossed the rustic bridge, and so reached a beautiful grass path which could not be seen from the house.