“I admit it. But did he tell you what I said?”
“He did not. Mr. Heathcroft IS a gentleman. He told me very little and that only in answer to my questions. I knew you and he met the other day. You did not mention it, but you were seen together, and when he did not come for the ride to which he had invited me I thought it strange. And his note to me was stranger still. I began to suspect then, and when we next met I asked him some questions. He told me next to nothing, but he is honorable and he does not LIE. I learned enough, quite enough.”
I wondered if she had learned of the essential thing, of Heathcroft's engagement.
“Did he tell you why I objected to his intimacy with you?” I asked.
“He told me nothing! Nothing! The very fact that you had objected, as you call it, was sufficient. Object! YOU object to my doing as I please! YOU meddle with my affairs! And humiliate me in the eyes of my friends! I could—I could die of shame! I... And as if I did not know your reasons. As if they were not perfectly plain.”
The real reason could not be plain to her. Heathcroft evidently had not told her of the Warwickshire heiress.
“I don't understand,” I said, trying my hardest to speak calmly. “What reasons?”
“Must I tell you? Did you OBJECT to my friendship with Doctor Bayliss, pray?”
“Doctor Bayliss! Why, Doctor Bayliss is quite different. He is a fine young fellow, and—”
“Yes,” with scornful sarcasm, “so it would appear. You and my aunt and he have the most evident of understandings. You need not praise him for my benefit. It is quite apparent how you both feel toward Doctor Bayliss. I am not blind. I have seen how you have thrown him in my company, and made opportunities for me to meet him. Oh, of course, I can see! I did not believe it at first. It was too absurd, too outrageously impertinent. I COULDN'T believe it. But now I know.”