“And you lay in wait for me! I might have expected it!”
“Could I do anything else? I’ve said nothing to anybody. No one but me has the least idea of anything being wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“Oh, there is, there is. You want to run away, from your home, your husband, your child. Lady Sarah, you are fond of Caryl; I could see it in your eyes this evening. You looked at him just as one wanted you always to look. Remember how he looked at you in return, remember the touch of his hand on your cheek. Oh, you wouldn’t like him to lose you; you wouldn’t like to lose him. Think what you’re doing, think, think. You will never be able to come back. How can you be happy, with all your friends cut off, your home wrecked, your own father and mother rendered miserable and ashamed for you. Lady Sarah, you’re not heartless; I’ll never believe it after seeing you with Caryl to-night. Come back, come back.”
Lady Sarah’s eyes flashed. She was crying with rage as well as with disappointment and alarm. Rhoda had unintentionally raised her voice during her impassioned entreaty, and Lady Sarah knew that Jack, waiting on the outer side of the wall, must know by this time that their plan was in danger of frustration.
Rhoda, indeed, did not content herself with entreaty. By the interposition of her person between Lady Sarah and the door, she made it impossible for the wilful woman to escape.
For this time, at least, it was plain that the escapade must be given up.
“You will tell Sir Robert, of course,” she sobbed out.
“No, no, no. I don’t want to make mischief. I want to prevent it. But will you keep your word if you promise not to try to go away again? Tell me, tell me, that you will. Oh, Lady Sarah, you must, you must. The shock of your going away, the scandal, the horror of it, would kill your own boy.”
“Nonsense. You’d better let me go and get it over. Sir Robert will soon forget me. Let me pass.”