Madeleine felt herself flushing with surprise and indignation. The visitor was let in immediately. It surely was her duty to go down and play watchdog.
She firmly rose. But as she did so, there was a knock at her door, and
Delia hurriedly entered.
"I—I thought I'd better say—Mr. Lathrop's just come to see me—on business. I'm so sorry, but you won't mind my coming to say so?"
Lady Tonbridge raised her eyebrows.
"You mean—you want to see him alone? All right. I'll come down presently."
Delia disappeared.
* * * * *
For more than half an hour did that "disreputable creature," as Lady Tonbridge roundly dubbed him, remain closeted with Delia, in Delia's drawing-room. Towards the end of the time the visitor overhead was walking to and fro impatiently, vowing to herself that she was bound—positively bound to Winnington—to go down and dislodge the man. But just as she was about to leave her room, she again heard the front door open and close. She ran to the window just in time to see Lathrop departing—and Winnington arriving!—on foot and alone. She watched the two men pass each other in the drive—Winnington's start of haughty surprise—and Lathrop's smiling and, as she thought, insolent greeting. It seemed to her that Winnington hesitated—was about to stop and address the intruder. But he finally passed him by with the slightest and coldest recognition. Lathrop's fair hair and slouching shoulders disappeared round a corner of the drive. Winnington hurried to the front door and entered.
Lady Tonbridge resolutely threw herself into an arm-chair and took up a novel.
"Now let them have it out! I don't interfere."