Joan's voice failed her. She stood and stared, afraid to believe her eyes.
Elizabeth waited; then: "Well?" she queried.
Joan found her voice. "You've come back for the holidays? Thank you for coming to see me."
Elizabeth said: "There's no need to thank me; I came because I wanted to; don't be ridiculous, Joan!"
"But I thought—I understood that you'd had enough of me. I thought my failing you had made you hate me."
"No, I don't hate you, or I shouldn't be here."
"Then I don't understand," said Joan desperately. "Oh! I don't understand!"
Elizabeth said: "No, I know you don't. I don't understand myself, but here I am."
They were silent for a while, eyeing each other like duellists waiting for an opening. Elizabeth leant back in the rickety chair, her enigmatical eyes on the girl's agitated face. She was smiling a little.
"What have you come for?" said Joan, flushing with sudden anger. "If you don't mean to stay, why have you come back to Seabourne? Perhaps you've come to jeer at me. Even Richard hasn't done that!"