Adelaide and Charles had a good deal of quiet conversation in the window; but what two lovers could talk with Clotho and Lachesis looking on, weaving? I, of course, know perfectly well what they talked of, but it is hardly worth setting down here. I find that lovers' conversations are not always interesting to the general public. After a decent time, Charles rose to go, and Adelaide went out by a side door.
Charles made his adieux to Clotho and Lachesis, and departed at the other end of the room. The door had barely closed on him, when Lady Hainault, eagerly thrusting her face towards Miss Hicks, hissed out—
"Did I give her time enough? Were her eyes red? Does he suspect anything?"
"You gave her time enough, I should say," said Miss Hicks, deliberately. "I didn't see that her eyes were red. But he must certainly suspect that you and she are not on the best of terms, from what she said."
"Do you think he knows that Hainault is at home? Did he ask for Hainault?"
"I don't know," said Miss Hicks.
"She shall not stop in the house. She shall go back to Lady Ascot. I won't have her in the house," said the old lady, furiously.
"Why did you have her here, Lady Hainault?"
"You know perfectly well, Hicks. You know I only had her to spite old Ascot. But she shall stay here no longer."
"She must stay for the wedding now," said Miss Hicks.