"Is that you, my lady?" The voice of Susannah Chressham came cold and pure.
"It is I," answered Mr. Hilton's daughter, "and I am coming home."
The last word was stressed with an accent of insult. The speaker came rapidly up the steps, and faced Miss Chressham in the light of the hall lamp.
"Come in," said Susannah, with pallid lips; "I think it is raining. I was going to look for you."
The Countess Lavinia passed into the house, after her the maid, discreetly.
"Go upstairs," commanded her mistress. "I shall not be long, Honoria."
Miss Chressham closed the door. The girl dropped a quick curtsey, and ran swiftly up the great stairway.
When she had gone Rose's wife, a slight, wild figure in her dark plain dress, turned sharply on the other woman.
"Has he been speaking of me to you?" she demanded.
Miss Chressham drew back against the door.