Doreen drew away from her father, looking into his face with searching eyes and with an expression full of fear.
"Papa, what do you mean? You have sent him away?"
Mr. Wedmore answered in a loud and angry voice; but it was clear enough that the anger was not directed against his daughter.
"I did not send him away. He took himself off. I had hardly begun to speak to him—and I began quite quietly, mind—when he made the excuse of a letter which he found waiting for him, to go back to town. Without any ceremony, he rushed out of the study into the hall, and snatched up his hat and coat to go."
"And is he gone?" asked Doreen, in a low voice, as she staggered back a step.
"Oh, yes, I suppose so. And a good riddance, too. There was no letter at all for him, I suppose."
"Yes, there was a letter!" faltered Doreen.
She gave a glance round her; seemed to remember suddenly the presence of a third person, for she blushed deeply on meeting the doctor's eyes; then, without another word, she sprang across the room to the door.
"Where are you going?" cried her father, as he followed her into the hall.
But she did not answer. The hall-door was closing with a loud clang.