“My mistress is sick, madame,” exclaimed Phebe, banging the door shut, and turning on the visitor with sharp displeasure.
“Go away, Louise! I can’t bear the sight of you!” Molly cried, fretfully; but Miss Barry sank coolly into the easiest chair in the luxurious room.
“Your manners are as bad as of old, Molly,” she retorted, insolently. “But send your maid away, please; I want to talk to you privately.”
“I don’t want you to talk to me. I won’t send Phebe away!” Molly cried out, defiantly, with flashing eyes.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Phebe planted herself aggressively in front of Miss Barry.
“You must please go out and not disturb my sick mistress any longer, ma’am,” she said politely, but firmly.
Louise measured her from head to foot with an insolent glance of the handsome yellow-brown eyes.
“Nonsense, woman,” she replied curtly. “I came here to have a private conversation with my step-sister, and I intend to do so. Therefore, the longer you remain and hinder my desire, the longer I shall stay here and annoy you.”
Phebe looked decidedly belligerent, as she exclaimed: