She wanted to withdraw from the wretched position in which she found herself, cut off from husband and relations. He would want her to snap her fingers at prejudices and principles alike, and to continue at her post.
Thus much she knew, but what she did not know, until she began to approach the subject, was that Mr. Candover was already in possession of the greater part of her news.
“I have something to tell you,” she began, not taking the chair she generally used, low and easy, but a higher, more stiff-backed one in which she could assume more dignity; “something that will, I think, surprise you very much.”
“Well!”
“Gerard is released—is at his uncle’s, Lord Clanfield’s.”
“So I heard—yesterday. And you are going to join him there?”
Did he, could he, know, the cruelty of this question? It broke down all poor Audrey’s defences, her pride, her self-command; and turning her head away to hide the tears that sprang to her eyes, she bit her trembling lip and tried in vain to recover her coolness.
Meanwhile, however, Mr. Candover quickly perceived his mistake.
“Oh, what have I done? Believe me, I had no intention of—of—Tell me. I don’t understand yet; what is the position?”
After a brief struggle, Audrey regained enough composure to answer, not in a firm, even tone, but in short, broken sentences:—