"I supposed you would find that out for yourself in due time," he replied with a half smile that nettled her, for she was decidedly uneasy over the discovery she had made. She was by no means blind to the distracting beauty of Leonora, and it had not taken her five minutes to find out that her mind was cultured and her accomplishments of a high order. When she reflected that her nephew had crossed the ocean in this dangerous society, she was frightened for her plans concerning him. What if they should "gang aglee?"
"Did you have any selfish motives in keeping the fact to yourself so long?" she inquired, sneeringly.
"I do not understand you," he replied, coldly.
"You do not? Yet you must have known that I would be surprised. You knew I expected a child. You must have supposed that I would not care to have such a girl—an adventuress, perhaps—or, may be, a low concert or saloon singer—who can tell?—here at Lancaster Park."
The angry flash of his eyes did not escape her keen gaze. She had spoken with a deliberate purpose.
"Lady Lancaster, I do not think any one but yourself would dare say such things of Miss West," he said, hotly.
"Dare? Why not? What do you know to the contrary?" sneered the evil old woman.
"I know Miss West herself; no one who knows her would believe her to be an adventuress. She is a pure, simple, and true-hearted maiden," he answered, steadily.
"Ah! so you are interested in her? I thought as much," declared Lady Lancaster, violently. "This, then, is the secret of your indifference to Lady Adela. You have conceived a preference for this low-born, impertinent girl. But beware, sir, how you trifle with me. Remember my conditions."
Flushing to the roots of his hair, Lancaster neither affirmed nor denied her accusations. He sat gazing at her in proud silence.