"Not on Sundays, dear. We never allow our young people to pay visits on Sundays," said the professor, just turning his head and glancing kindly at Rosamund.
The smile vanished from her countenance. She colored high with annoyance.
"But I promised her I would go, and she is an old friend of mother's, and please may I go on this occasion?"
"I make a rule which cannot be broken, that no girls accept invitations for Sunday. That is the end of the matter."
He turned to speak to his wife, without giving Rosamund any further thought. He was feeling ill that day—worse than usual—and he did not notice the consternation, rage, and also determination which filled Rosamund's face. Lucy had not heard her words, but she exclaimed eagerly when the girl returned to her place among her school-fellows, "Well, what is it? What did Lady Jane say to you?"
"Oh, nothing—nothing particular."
"But you did seem so eager and pleased. You don't look at all pleased now."
"She said nothing in particular, really. How nice that field looks, with all that grass growing up so green after the haymaking."
"Oh, don't talk platitudes," said Lucy. She watched Rosamund narrowly.
By-and-by they reached the house. Rosamund went straight up to her own room. There such a wave of passion, anger, and revolt swept over her that she scarcely knew herself.