"He does not," fired Daisy. "If he does, who is it?"
"No one in his own station—more shame to him! It is that girl they call so beautiful—who lost her father. Rose—Rose—what's the name?—Rosaline Bell. Frank Raynor loves her with his whole heart and soul."
"Lydia, how dare you say such a thing?"
"I don't say it. I only repeat it. Ask Trennach. It is known all over the place. They used to be always together—walking on the Bare Plain by night. The girl has gone away for a time; and the gentleman, during her absence, amuses himself with you. Makes love to you to keep his hand in."
Daisy's heart turned sick and faint within her. Not at Lydia's supreme sarcasm, but at the horrible conviction that there must be something in the tale. She remembered the past evening at the dinner-table—and the recollection came rushing into her mind like a barbed arrow—when Sir Arthur Beauchamp and others were questioning Frank about this very girl and her beauty, and she—Daisy—had been struck with the emotion he betrayed; with his evidently shrinking manner, with the changing hue of his face. Did he in truth love this girl, Rosaline Bell?—and was she so very beautiful?
"How did you hear this, Lydia?" asked Daisy, in tones from which all spirit was quenched.
"I heard it from Tabitha. She knows about it. You can ask her yourself."
And Daisy did ask. As it chanced, the maid at that moment entered the room with some beef-tea for Lydia; and Daisy, suppressing her pride and her reticence, condescended to question her. Tabitha answered freely and readily, as if there were nothing in the subject to conceal, and with a palpable belief in its truth that told terribly upon Daisy. In fact, the woman herself implicitly believed it. Mr. Blase Pellet had once favoured her with his version of the story, and Tabitha never supposed that that version existed in Mr. Pellet's own imagination, and in that alone.
"I—don't think it can be true, Tabitha," faltered poor Daisy, her heart beating wildly. "She was not a lady."
"It's true enough, Miss Margaret. Blase Pellet wanted her himself, but she'd have nothing to say to him—or to any one else except Mr. Raynor. Pellet is related to the Bells, and knew all about it. What he said to me was this: 'Raynor is after her for ever, day and night, and she worships the ground he treads on!' Those were his very words, Miss Margaret."