III
The Chinese room was so called because its walls were covered with a stiff golden Chinese paper. It had wide windows looking on to the garden; Rachel used it a great deal.
Lizzie fixed upon her mind, very deliberately, all the details of her surroundings. Rachel was dressed in black with red round her throat and her waist, and this brilliant colour made her face seem white and there were deep, heavy black marks under her eyes.
She looked up when Lizzie came in, seemed, with a violent effort, to compel control.
They sat there for some time and discussed the dance; the dusk filled the room, then tea was brought. There was a light in their corner; slowly the rest of the room grew dark.
They finished tea, it was taken away, and Lizzie, sitting quite close to Rachel, on a little sofa that had a window just behind it, was aware that again, in spite of herself, her ears were straining for some sound. The house and all the world were profoundly still.
When the servant had at last left them alone, Rachel said—"Miss Rand, you mustn't go away to-morrow—Aunt Adela can manage for another week. After all, she did promise that you should stay for me over the ball."
"Why did you ask me here, Lady Rachel?" Lizzie said. Her speech was a direct challenge and, instantly, when she had spoken she knew that they had entered upon those personal relations that they had, during all these weeks, feared.
"I asked you because I wanted you for a friend—I've no friend—no woman friend—whom I can trust. I knew that I could trust you—I hoped that you could help me——"
"I've been here for some time now and you have told me nothing."