It was long past six o'clock and the short winter twilight was over when he finally entered the house. A glance showed the old tap-room empty and Rachel's little tea-table deserted. Belhaven experienced a feeling of relief; it would have been a trial to drink a cup of tea and talk about the outside world to her to-day, for he was in no mood to talk. He went on, and passing down the hall, approached his den, a small room where he read and worked and smoked alone. Whether Rachel considered her presence there an intrusion or shrank from any appearance of intimacy, he did not know, but she never came there and he was the more surprised when he opened the door to find her standing before the fire, still dressed in her out-of-door clothes, her heavy coat thrown on the back of a chair, just as she slipped it off more than an hour ago. He stood a moment looking at her in surprise. Her expression had a certain concentration, a spiritualized anger, which amazed him.
"Please close the door," she said quietly. "I have something to say to you, and unhappily servants listen."
He closed the door and went over to the fire. "Won't you sit down?" he asked, remembering that he was the host, with an effort.
"I've been waiting to see you for an hour," she replied, without taking the chair he offered. "I was coming home through the woods this afternoon; I had no thought of playing spy but I saw you with Eva."
"Apparently we were quite observed," retorted Belhaven bitterly. "Charter also saw us."
"He was with me."
Belhaven glanced at her and raged in his heart. He would have given his all to have stood in Charter's place at that moment. "You're more candid than he was," he said bitingly.
Rachel colored. "It was impossible not to see you; the place is public. We've had months of very bitter experience; I know it's been as bitter to you as to me. We've taken up a yoke that we ought never to have assumed, which we would never have assumed had I known that you wouldn't keep your promise to me—to let poor Eva alone! I married you to shield her from Astry's anger, not to practise a deceit upon Astry. I understood from you both that there was the end of it all. My sister's folly, her conduct, I can't understand, I don't attempt to, but you—" Rachel drew a deep breath—"you're a man of the world; you know what you do! I can't stand here to shield you from Astry; there must be an end. You must give Eva up, I must save my sister—if she can't save herself."
Belhaven had listened in silence, his clenched hands strained at his sides. There was a moment's pause before he spoke. "I don't suppose you'll believe me, but I can swear to you that, since our marriage, there's been absolutely nothing between your sister and myself except her reproaches."
"Which you've deserved," said Rachel relentlessly.