"And my father," said Delia anxiously, "what about him?"
"I have written to him and your mother to come here," replied Mrs. Pomeroy, "and I shall expect them to-morrow morning. We must consult together what is best to be done. I cannot now arrive at any decision, and till I do so, I wish neither of you to leave this room on any pretext whatever, nor shall I allow you to see any one. You must not complain if I treat you altogether as culprits till you have shown yourselves worthy of confidence."
There was a violent ring at the door as she spoke, and a few minutes afterward, a servant appeared and informed Mrs. Pomeroy that Mr. Hugo was below, and desired to see Miss Mason immediately.
Delia turned pale.
"Oh, Mrs. Pomeroy, I cannot see him. Don't let him come near me!"
"Fear nothing, my child. He shall not harm you, if I can help it. I only wonder at his insolence in presenting himself here at all."
She stopped a moment to put her cap to rights, for in no emergency was she seen with any part of her dress in disorder, and descended to the drawing room, which was directly under her own apartments.
The girls sat clasped in each other's arms, Delia trembling and terrified, listening to the angry voice which made itself heard through the floor, and offered a striking contrast to Mr. Fletcher's deep and composed tones. Leaving them to comfort each other, we will follow Mrs. Pomeroy to the drawing room.
Mr. Hugo was walking up and down the long apartment, raging like a wild beast, his appearance not improved by his black eye, or the loss of his moustache, which he had been obliged to sacrifice, being quite unable to clean it from the tenacious clay which it had contracted in his fall. Mr. Fletcher stood by the fire-side, quietly regarding him with his dark, bright eyes, but showing no signs of disturbance. Mr. Hugo turned round as Mrs. Pomeroy entered.
"To what am I indebted for the unexpected honor of seeing Madame?" he inquired, with sarcastic politeness. "If my memory serves me, I inquired for Miss Mason, alone."