"Is it true that you gave sister Emily horrid live things that curled themselves up into so-called pills, and she swallowed them and nearly died afterward? Is it true—tell me?"
"It's quite true," said Irene, all the dancing wickedness coming to the front at once, and her eyes blazing with anger.
"Then you are a really wicked girl. You might have been had up by the police and put into prison."
"And what if I had, you wicked boy—for you are about the wickedest and rudest boy I have ever come across? Much do I care! I wanted her to go, and I thought that would be a good way to get rid of her."
"Oh, that's all right!" said Hugh. "I'll just go and tell Agnes. I'll tell her that you'll do things of that sort to her, that you are a sort of witch, and will show your true colors before long. Now, what is the matter?"
"You sha'n't tell her. You daren't!" said Irene.
She caught both his hands as though in a vise. He was amazed at their strength, also at the beautiful, extraordinary passion of her face. Rosamund started up to interfere.
"Come, children," she said, "don't quarrel. Hughie, you do extremely wrong to speak in that tone to Irene. Come and have a walk with me. You know I am going away to-morrow, and I wouldn't have asked Irene to invite you both to this beautiful house, and to give you such a splendid holiday, if I hadn't thought you were going to be quite good. Ah! here comes Agnes."
Agnes was seen flying across the lawn. She was wearing a pretty white dress, and her whole dainty little figure, with her light hair flying wildly behind her, made her a most charming little picture. She dashed up to Irene, flung her arms round her neck, and kissed her passionately.
"Oh," she said, "it seemed hours while I was away from you! I was with Emily, and Emily says that perhaps I had better not eat plums—at least not more than one or two."