Lady Frances looked annoyed.
“She belongs to us all,” she remarked. “She is your first cousin, and my niece, of course, by marriage. Her father was a very dear fellow; how such a daughter could have been given to him is one of those puzzles which will never be unraveled. But now, dear, we must descend from generalities to facts. Something very grave and terrible has occurred. Read did right when she told me about Evelyn’s secret visits to Jasper at the stile. You know how from the very first I have distrusted and disliked that woman. You must not suppose, Audrey, that I felt no pain when I turned the woman away after the letter which Evelyn’s mother had written to me; but there are times when it is wrong to yield, and I felt that such was the case.”
“I knew, my darling mother, that you must have acted from the best of motives,” said Audrey.
“I did, my dearest child; I did. Well, Evelyn has managed to meet this woman, and instead of being removed from her influence, is under it to a remarkable and dangerous degree—for the woman, of course, thinks herself wronged, and Evelyn agrees with her. Now, the fact is this, Audrey: I happen to know about that very disagreeable occurrence which took place at Chepstow House.”
“What, mother—what?” cried Audrey. “You speak as if you knew something special.”
“But what, mother?”
Audrey’s face turned red; her eyes shone. She went close to her mother, knelt by her, and took her hand.
“Who has spoken to you about it?” she asked.
“Miss Henderson.”