"On the contrary! You are being influenced against me."
Delia laughed.
"By whom, please?"
"By the man who has you in his power—under our abominable laws."
"By my guardian?—by Mark Winnington? Really! Gertrude! Considering that I had a fresh quarrel with him only last week—on your account—at Monk Lawrence—"
Gertrude released herself by a sudden movement.
"When were you at Monk Lawrence?"
"Why, that afternoon, when you were in town. I missed my train at Latchford, and took a motor home." There was some consciousness in the girl's look and tone which did not escape her companion. She was evidently aware that her silence on the incident might appear strange to Gertrude. However, she frankly described her adventure, Daunt's surliness, and Winnington's appearance.
"He arrived in the nick of time, and made Daunt let me in. Then, while we were going round, he began to talk about your speech, and wanted to make me say I was sorry for it. And I wouldn't! And then—well, he thought very poorly of me—and we parted—coolly. We've scarcely met since. And that's all."
"What speech?" Gertrude was sitting erect now with queerly bright eyes.