"Exactly. And, such being the case, your presence in this house requires some little explanation."
Unable to see the connexion between the miniature and this attack; Bluebell remained silent and confounded; but, as he continued to gaze severely at her, she roused herself to reply.
"I came here because Mrs. Barrington brought me, and I went to her by the purest accident. Did you know my father, my Lord?"
"Simplicity may be rather overdone! Do you think, child, I have not seen through your evident desire to ingratiate yourself?—and scheming yourself into this house will, I assure you, not further your designs!"
Bluebell could not deny the former charge, though guiltless of the latter insinuation. But who could have betrayed their marriage, and why did he only blame her?
"I do not know who may have prompted you, but if he thought duplicity and cunning a recommendation in a grand-child—"
"Grandchild!" echoed Bluebell. "What can you mean, Lord Bromley! Sir Timothy Leigh was my grandfather!"
"Which, as you probably very well know, I have not been called for fifteen years!"
Still the intense perplexity of her face was staggering his impression that this adventurous daughter of his disinherited son was trying by a coup de main to cancel the edict of banishment, and to obtain favour and fortune at his hands.
"You my grandfather!" she reiterated, mechanically, her eyes, wonder wide, staring at the old man with child-like directness, that produced a more convincing effect on his mind than any words. After all, it was quite possible she might not have heard of his succession to a remote peerage, and this amazement was certainly not assumed. Moreover, the expression of her face was conjuring from a dim past a host of memories. He became strangely moved, and could scarcely bear the gaze which recalled so forcibly Theodore in his youth.