This, while she shook hands with Rose, was delivered with the air of one who, while allowing herself for philanthropic purposes to have the appearance of being deceived, wishes to remind the deceiver that she possesses intelligence.
“Diana has just gone out. She is splendidly well now, I’m thankful to say,” answered Cecily, smiling. “That’s why I was able to come home. And I was so glad it was possible, when I heard from Rose last week that it was poor Robert’s turn to look ill.”
Lady Wilmot looked at her fixedly before she dropped, with an undeniable thud, into a neighboring chair.
Her expression demanded imperatively whether ignorance or duplicity accounted for the remarks of her hostess.
Cecily was faintly amused. She found herself a little curious as to the meaning of her guest’s portentous behavior, though her wonder was only slightly stirred, after all. Her mind was full of other matters.
She put her hand on the bell.
“We’ll have tea at once,” she said.
Lady Wilmot stopped her with a commanding gesture.
“Where is Robert?” she demanded.
“At Aldeburgh,” returned Cecily. “He may be back to-day, though. He doesn’t expect me quite so soon. I’m to be a surprise for him.” Her smile this time was tinged with impatience. Lady Wilmot’s stare annoyed her.