“She has made a fool of others as well as of you,” said Juliana.
“How has she?” he inquired.
“Never mind. Do you want to make her humble and crouch to you?”
“I want to see Harrington,” said Harry.
“He will not return to-night from Fallowfield. He has gone there to get Mr. Andrew Cogglesby’s brother to do something for him. You won’t have such another chance of humbling them both—both! I told you his mother is at an inn here. The Countess has sent Mr. Harrington to Fallowfield to be out of the way, and she has told her mother all sorts of falsehoods.”
“How do you know all that?” quoth Harry. “By Jove, Juley! talk about plotters! No keeping anything from you, ever!”
“Never mind. The mother is here. She must be a vulgar woman. Oh! if you could manage, Harry, to get this woman to come—you could do it so easily! while they are at the pie-nic tomorrow. It would have the best effect on Rose. She would then understand! And the Countess!”
“I could send the old woman a message!” cried Harry, rushing into the scheme, inspired by Juliana’s fiery eyes. “Send her a sort of message to say where we all were.”
“Let her know that her son is here, in some way,” Juley resumed.
“And, egad! what an explosion!” pursued Harry. “But, suppose—”