The intensity of contempt and dislike it suggested was a revelation to him. Demoralised as he was, he would rather have faced any danger than this girl's quiet scorn, and the aversion she entertained against him, which her sensitive face unmistakably betrayed, attracted his attention to her as nothing else could have done.
As he watched her, a dull resentment against his cousin grew stronger within him at every moment. It was impossible that this girl could look at him and speak to him as she had done if her mind had not been poisoned against him. That her haughty coldness was assumed he knew from the manner in which she had at first greeted him. It must certainly be Lorin who had made her hate him in advance, and for this Lorin should be made to suffer.
"You expect my cousin this afternoon, I believe?" he said, addressing Clare, abruptly.
"Don't ask me," the young lady replied, archly; "you must ask my friend, Miss Grahame. Lina dear, do you expect Mr. Armstrong to-day?"
"I think not."
"Think? Surely you know, darling! When you were skating at his uncle's house at Hampstead yesterday, didn't he make any appointment to come to-day? But perhaps I oughtn't to ask."
"Were you at the Homestead yesterday?" Wallace asked, his face changing suddenly.
"Yes."
"It's a charming old house, is it not?" Clare asked him, innocently.