'This morning, before we started.'
'Eleanor!—Why was I not told?'
'I wanted to save the day,'—the words were spoken in Eleanor's most charming, most musical voice. 'There was no address. You could not have stopped her.'
'I would have managed somehow,'—said Manisty striking his hand on the table beside him in his annoyance and impatience.
Eleanor did not defend herself. She tried to soothe him, to promise him as usual that the dreaded visit should be made easy to him. But he paid little heed. He sat moodily brooding in his chair; and when Eleanor's persuasions ceased, he broke out—
'That poor child!—After to-day's experiences,—to have Alice let loose upon her!—I would have given anything—anything!—that it should not have happened.'
'Miss Foster?' said Eleanor lightly—'oh! she will bear up.'
'There it is!'—said Manisty, in a sudden fury. 'We have all been misjudging her in the most extraordinary way! She is the most sensitive, tender-natured creature—I would not put an ounce more strain upon her for the world.'
His aunt called him, and he went stormily away. Eleanor's smile as she stood looking after him—how pale and strange it was!