Sara threw her head up and met her with a cold, repelling look.
"Wait!" she commanded. "The time has come when you should know what is in my mind, and has been for months and months. It concerns you. I expect you to marry Leslie Wrandall."
Hetty stopped short.
"How can you jest with me, Sara?" she cried, suddenly indignant.
"I am not jesting," said Sara levelly.
"You—you—really mean—what you have just said?" The puzzled look gave way to one of revulsion. A great shudder swept over her.
"Leslie Wrandall must pay his brother's debt to you."
"My God!" fell from the girl's stiff lips. "You—you must be going mad—mad!"
Sara laughed softly. "I have meant it almost from the beginning," she said. "It came to my mind the day that Challis was buried. It has never been out of it for an instant since that day. Now you understand."
If she expected Hetty to fall into a fit of weeping, to collapse, to plead with her for mercy, she was soon to find herself mistaken. The girl straightened up suddenly and met her gaze with one in which there was the fierce determination. Her eyes were steady, her bosom heaved.