‘I fear you wouldn’t have succeeded in making your brother act dishonourably,’ Adela replied.
It was the first sarcasm that had ever passed her lips, and as soon as it was spoken she turned to leave the room, fearful lest she might say things which would afterwards degrade her in her own eyes. Her body quivered. As she reached the door Rodman opened it and entered. He bowed to let her pass, searching her face the while.
When she was gone he approached to Alice, whom he had at once observed:
‘What have you been up to?’ he asked sternly.
Her head was bent before him, and she gave no answer.
‘Can’t you speak? What’s made her look like that? Have you been quarrelling with her?’
‘Quarrelling?’
‘You know what I mean well enough. Just tell me what you said. I thought I told you to stay upstairs? What’s been going on?’
‘I told her she ought to have let us know,’ replied Alice, timorous, but affecting the look and voice of a spoilt child.
‘Then you’ve made a fool of yourself!’ he exclaimed with subdued violence. ‘You’ve got to learn that when I tell you to do a thing you do it—or I’ll know the reason why! You’d no business to come out of your room. Now you’ll just find her and apologise. You understand? You’ll go and beg her pardon at once.’