"Why did not you come and see me the other day when I came to call upon you?" he asks, walking along beside her; "I believe you were at home all the time." In his heart he does not in the least believe it.
She does not answer; but, without thinking of what she is doing, picks off the berries, the procuring of which had cost her so many wounds, and strews them along the road.
"Were you really at home?" he repeats, a misgiving as to such having been the case crossing his mind, and giving his vanity a slight prick.
"Yes, I was."
"And knew I was there all the time?"
"Yes."
"A prey to Mrs. Blessington——?"
"Yes."
"And never came to my rescue?"
"Did you expect the butler and housekeeper to come and entertain you?" she asks, a little bitterly. "Have you forgotten what I told you the other day—that I am Mrs. Blessington's valet? I have as little concern with her visitors as the kitchen-maids have."