Layard rose to go. Freddie was in the kitchen with Mrs. Grainger.
"Isn't a good deal of, or all, this fancy?" asked Hetty, as she too rose.
"It may be fancy that he is afraid of something discreditable; but I am certain he is afraid."
"How can you tell that?" asked the girl, in incredulous wonder.
"By his eyes and the motion of his hands. That man could not for a thousand pounds sit in a room the door of which had opened at his back without turning round."
"Upon my word, you are growing quite fanciful, Alfred. And did you notice that he was very much afraid of us?" she said in a bantering tone.
"He is afraid of every one until he is assured of what that person is."
"Of Mrs. Grainger and me, for instance?"
"Yes, he would be afraid of you until he saw your face and discovered who you were."
"Alfred, I never felt so proud in all my life before. To think that a strong man like him should go about shaking in his shoes at sight of me is quite romantic. I must cultivate all kinds of dark and forbidding looks. I feel that I could act the bravo if I only had a cloak and a dagger and the divided skirt."