“Who is that girl?” he asked.
She affected not to understand his question. She raised her eyes, saying:
“Girl? What girl?”
“There—outside—on the lawn.”
“Oh, Miss Tristram—have you seen her before?”
“Have I seen—how does she come to be here? Ah, I need not ask you. You heard me speak of her and invited her here. You are so good. Did you tell her that I was in this part of the country? I do not think that I ever mentioned that my home was in Brackenshire.”
The expression of surprise which had been on his face became one of pleasure.
She watched him dumbly, as he unfastened the latch of the window and opened one of the leaves. She saw Clare turn round at the click of the latch, and glance toward the window. She saw the look of surprise that had been on Claude's face come to Clare's as she stood there in the midst of the wheeling birds. The pause lasted only a few seconds; it was broken by the laugh of the girl as she went to the window.
He stepped out to meet her with outstretched hand, and the girl laughed again.
Agnes fell back against the tapestry curtain clutching it with each hand, and staring across the empty room.