They were suddenly startled by the voice of Mr. Candover; and turning quickly with little cries, they were amazed to find themselves face to face, not with the smiling, indulgent father, the chivalrous and kind friend, but with a man whose face was dark with passion, and in whose black eyes there was a look of anger and alarm which struck them dumb, and filled Audrey at least with sudden and strange misgiving.
Mr. Candover looked from her to his daughters, who made no attempt to greet him, so much surprised were they.
“When did I give permission for you to leave your school? What is Miss Willett thinking about to let you come out without it?” asked he sharply.
“Oh, papa,” said Pamela, who was the only one who seemed ready to “stand up to” him, “we thought that, in the case of Mrs. Angmering——”
“Hold your tongue. I know nothing of any Mrs. Angmering. You are in the house of Madame Rocada——” Audrey broke into a protest of horror, but he went on, “and you have no business to come out even to see your nearest relations, without my permission. I’m surprised at Miss Willett. Put on your hats, and I will put you in a fly, and you can drive back at once.”
Indignant protests on the part of Pamela, tears from Babs, alarm and stupefaction on the face of Audrey, availed nothing.
Within ten minutes the poor girls were driving away, but not before Pamela, with a look of sullen anger and resentment in her lively black eyes, which were so like her father’s, had whispered into Audrey’s ear:—
“I shall come again, if you’ll let me. I’m not a child and I’m not going to be treated as one much longer!”
Poor Audrey did not know what to say, but “Hush, dear, hush!” as she kissed the bright-eyed girl, and waved them both a farewell which was almost tearful.
As soon as they were gone Mr. Candover recovered his usual gentle, kindly manner.