“Oh,” she said, “I am just going out. I am so sorry, but I am afraid I must. Bazaars are tiresome things, but one must go to them, and I promised Mrs. Codrington that I would be there early. Elizabeth is in. She’ll give you some tea. Markham, will you please tell Miss Elizabeth?”
David came forward as she was speaking. There was a window above the front door, and as he came out of the shadow, and the light fell on his face, he saw Mary start a little. Her expression changed, and she said in a hesitating manner:
“Of course, Elizabeth may be busy, or she may be going out—I really don’t know. Perhaps you had better come another day, David.”
He read her clearly enough. She thought that he had been drinking, and hesitated to leave him with her sister. He had been about to say that he could not stop, but her suspicion raised a devil of obstinacy in him, and as Elizabeth came out of her room by way of the dining-room, he advanced to meet her, saying:
“Will you give me some tea, Elizabeth, or are you too busy?”
“Liz, come here,” said Mary quickly. Her colour had risen at David’s tone. She drew Elizabeth a little aside. “Liz, you’d better not,” she whispered, “he looks so queer.”
“Nonsense, Molly.”
“I wish you wouldn’t——”
“My dear Molly, are you going to begin to chaperone me?”
Mary tossed her head.