“I’m not going away,” Lord Warburton answered.
“Your sister says you must. In America the gentlemen obey the ladies.”
“I’m afraid we have some people to tea,” said Miss Molyneux, looking at her brother.
“Very good, my dear. We’ll go.”
“I hoped you would resist!” Henrietta exclaimed. “I wanted to see what Miss Molyneux would do.”
“I never do anything,” said this young lady.
“I suppose in your position it’s sufficient for you to exist!” Miss Stackpole returned. “I should like very much to see you at home.”
“You must come to Lockleigh again,” said Miss Molyneux, very sweetly, to Isabel, ignoring this remark of Isabel’s friend. Isabel looked into her quiet eyes a moment, and for that moment seemed to see in their grey depths the reflexion of everything she had rejected in rejecting Lord Warburton—the peace, the kindness, the honour, the possessions, a deep security and a great exclusion. She kissed Miss Molyneux and then she said: “I’m afraid I can never come again.”
“Never again?”
“I’m afraid I’m going away.”