Edith turned about swiftly and saw a form approaching through the trees. She had her choice of two paths a little beyond, and fled by the upper one. Her fear of Arthur had become mortal. As it was she rushed into the arms of Louis, who had seen the fleeing form, and thought to play a joke upon Mona or Honora. He dropped the stranger and made apologies for his rudeness. She curtsied mockingly, and murmured:
"Possibly we have met before."
The blood rose hot to his face as he recognized her, and her face paled as he seized her by the wrist with scant courtesy.
"I scarcely hoped for the honor of meeting you again, Sister Claire. Of course you are here only for mischief, and Arthur Dillon must see you and settle with you. I'll trouble you to come with me."
"You have not improved," she snarled. "You would attack my honor again."
Then she screamed for help once, not the second time, which might have brought Arthur to the scene; but Honora came running to her assistance.
"Ah, this was your prey, wolf?" said Louis coolly. "Honora, has she been lying to you, this fox, Sister Claire, Edith Conyngham, with a string of other names not to be remembered? Didn't you know her?"
Honora recoiled. Edith stood in shame, with the mortified expression of the wild beast, the intelligent fox, trapped by an inferior boy.
"Oh, let her go, Louis," she pleaded.
"Not till she has seen Arthur. The mischief she can do is beyond counting. Arthur knows how to deal with her."