Kate pointed to the door, and the woman hurried out.
She returned in a few minutes, though, with a breakfast tray, which she set down without a word, and once more Kate was alone; but she started at a sound she heard at the door, and darted silently to it to slip the bolt; but before her hand could reach it there was a faint click, and she knew that the key had been taken out and replaced upon the other side. She was for the first time locked in, and a whispering told her that Garstang was there.
The struggle with her weakness had not been without its result. An unnatural calmness—the calmness of despair—had worked a change in her, and she was no longer the frightened, trembling girl, but the woman, ready to fight for all that was dear in life. She knew that she was weak and exhausted in body, and sat down with a strange calmness to the breakfast that had been brought up, eating and drinking mechanically, but thinking deeply the while of the challenge which she felt that she had sent down to Garstang, and collecting her forces for the encounter.
Quite an hour had passed before she heard a sound; and then the key was turned in the lock, and the housekeeper appeared.
“Master is in the library, ma’am,” she said, “and will be glad to see you now.”
This was said with a meaning smile, which said a great deal; but Kate did not even glance at her. She walked calmly out of her room, descended the staircase, and went straight into the library, where Garstang met her with extended hands.
“My dearest child,” he began.
She waved him aside, and walked straight to her usual place, and sat down.
“Ah!” said Garstang, as if to himself; “more beautiful than ever, in her anger. How can she wonder that she has made me half mad?”
“Will you be good enough to sit down, Mr Garstang?” she said, gazing firmly at him.