She looked wildly around her.
“Oh! I must find some one; I must speak to some one,” she thought. “I will go to Sylvia; it is no great distance to The Priory. I will go over there at once.”
She walked quickly. She was glad of the exercise—of any excuse to keep moving. She soon reached The Priory, and was just about to put her hand on the latch to open the big gates when a girl appeared on the other side—a girl with a white face, somewhat sullen in outline, with big brown eyes, and a quantity of fair hair falling over her shoulders. Even in the midst of her agitation Audrey gave a gasp.
“Evelyn!” she said.
“I am not going with you,” said Evelyn. She backed away, and a look of apprehension crossed her face. “Why have you come here? You never come to The Priory. What are you doing here? Go away. You need not think you will have anything to do with me in the future. I know it is all up with me. I suppose you have come from the school to—to torture me!”
“Don’t, Evelyn—don’t,” said Audrey. “Oh, the misery you caused us last night! But that is nothing to what has happened now. Listen, and forget yourself for a minute.”
Poor Audrey tottered forward; her composure gave way. The next moment her head was on her cousin’s shoulder; she was sobbing as if her heart would break.
“Why, how strange you are!” said Evelyn, distressed and slightly softened, but, all the same, much annoyed at what she believed would frustrate all her plans. For things had been going so well! The poor, silly old man who lived at The Priory was too ill to take any notice. She and Sylvia could do as they pleased. Jasper was Mr. Leeson’s nurse. Mr. Leeson was delirious and talking wild nonsense. Evelyn was in a scene of excitement; she was petted and made much of. Why did Audrey come to remind her of that world from which she had fled?
“I suppose it was rather bad this morning at school,” she said. “I can imagine what a fuss they kicked up—what a shindy—all about nothing! But there! yes, of course, I do not mind saying now that I did do it. I was sorry afterwards; I would not have done it if I had known—if I had guessed that everybody would be so terribly miserable. But you do not suppose—you do not suppose, Audrey, that I, who am to be the owner of Castle Wynford some day——”
But at these words Audrey gave a piercing cry: