She drew back with a pallid face and a hauteur that would have become Lady Fettercairn herself, while he in turn made her a low mock bow, and stalked tipsily off with what he thought a dignity of bearing, leaving her sick with terror of a future of insult and apprehension.
Somehow she felt at his mercy, and began to contemplate flight, but to where?
Watching closely, Lady Fettercairn observed the extreme caution and coldness of Dulcie's bearing to Shafto; but, not believing in it, or that a person in her dependent state could resist advances of any kind from one in his lofty position, supposed she had only to wait long enough and observe with care to find out if aught was wrong.
'But why wait?' said Lady Drumshoddy; 'why not dismiss the creature at once?' she added with asperity.
'How comes it that you are so intimate with this girl Carlyon?' said Lady Fettercairn one day.
'Your companion?' said Shafto.
'Yes.'
'How often have I told you that we are old friends—knew each other in Devonshire since we were a foot high.'
'But this intimacy now is—to say the least of it, Shafto—undignified.'
'I am sorry you think so.'