‘You were so absorbed, you scarcely heard my name,’ she said, in her clear, rather sarcastic tones, and with a slight cool smile. ‘I am glad to find you in. I heard that Michael was coming home to-day, and I did not wish to go away without saying good-bye.’
‘You are going away?’ said Eleanor. ‘Are you going for long?’
‘Most likely I shall never see you again,’ Magdalen pursued. ‘It is not probable that our paths will ever cross. Indeed, I shall make it my object to prevent them from doing so.’
‘Magdalen——’
But Michael, a little better acquainted with human nature, and especially with Magdalen’s nature, than was his wife, had already guessed, and his eyes were fixed upon Miss Wynter’s face, scrutinisingly, but with little surprise.
‘I am going to London,’ said Magdalen. ‘I intend travelling there by the south mail this evening. I have sent my things on, and called to see you on my way to the station.’
‘To London——’ began Eleanor.
Magdalen’s eyebrows contracted. She gave a short, impatient laugh.
‘How long you are in comprehending! I see Michael understood at once. Ah, Michael, if you had understood me as well seven years ago!... Well, Eleanor, I am going to Otho.’
‘To Otho!’