He could not refrain from saying—
“Mrs Martyn gave me to understand that you were leaving at once!”
Anne flashed round upon him.
“Mrs Martyn talks, but you might know better! Pray how are we going?”
“In Lord Milborough’s yacht, she said.”
“Thank you.” Her tone was contemptuous. “Wait till we are gone!”
His heart grew soft once more under renewed faith in her.
“I hardly thought you would desert him,” he said, in a low voice. “Mrs Martyn, however, spoke as if all were settled.”
“If she goes, I stay,” was Anne’s answer, and he could have wished for nothing more resolute. It was the last word he got, for she vanished.
Before her, he believed in her implicitly; once out of sight, doubted. He was ready to admit that she would go unwillingly, but with pressure put upon her by all the others, it seemed to him that she would scarcely hold out. The following morning, however, when he went down to breakfast, he found Mrs Martyn engaged in cracking an egg. She presented him with a few perfunctory questions as to Hugh’s welfare, only to turn eagerly to her own grievances.