And the fierce old lady swept to the door, holding the culprit with her eyes. Harding, too, stepped up to Letty, who was standing now by the mantelpiece, with her back to the room. He took the hand hanging by her side, and folded it ostentatiously in both of his.
"Good-night, dear little cousin," he said, in his most affected voice.
"If you have any need of us, command us."
"Are you going?" said Tressady. His brow was curiously wrinkled.
Harding made him a bow, and walked with rather sidling steps to the door. Tressady followed him to the landing, called to the butler, who was still up, and ceremoniously told him to get Mrs. Watton a cab. Then he walked back to the drawing-room, and shut the door behind him.
"Letty!"
His tone startled her. She looked round hastily.
"Letty! you were defending me as I came in."
He was extraordinarily pale—his blue eyes flashed. Every trace of the hauteur with which he had treated the Wattons had disappeared.
Letty recovered herself in an instant. The moment he showed softness she became the tyrant.
"Don't come!—don't touch me!" she said passionately, putting out her hand as he approached her. "If I defended you, it was just for decency's sake. You have disgraced us both. It is perfectly true what Aunt Watton says. I don't suppose we shall ever get over it. Oh! don't try to bully me"—for Tressady had turned away with an impatient groan. "It's no use. I know you think me a little fool! I'm not one of your great political ladies, who pretend to know everything that they may keep men dangling after them. I don't pose and play the hypocrite, as some—some people do. But, all the same, I know that you have done for yourself, and that people will say the most disgraceful things. Of course they will! And you can't deny them—you know you can't. Why did you never tell me a thing? Who made you change over? Ah! you can't answer—or you won't!"