"I am in his way. Oh, I wish I could die now!" she was thinking wildly.
Sylvie, who had done all this out of sheer malice, gloated over the sight of her misery.
To herself she said spitefully:
"I am paying her back, the little pauper and nobody, for Ida's disappointment."
Then suddenly she remembered that it was almost dinner-time. She said carelessly:
"You had better go back to your room and finish dressing, Una; and remember, I would not have told you what I have, only that you disputed my word. I hope you will not run to Edith with it. It will only make matters worse. I dare say he will learn to love you in time."
"I shall run to no one with it," Una answered, in a strange voice. She moved to the door as she spoke, and passed out. Sylvie laughed mockingly.
"I have paid Eliot now for his insolence. I know he loves her to madness. I saw it in his eyes when she met him so coolly this evening. Well, this will put a stumbling-block between them that he will not easily pass."
And humming an opera air with heartless indifference, she made some slight addition to her already elaborate toilet, and went down-stairs.