Ah,—she had known what was coming. She had read it in Julia's eyes. Desperately she stood her ground.
"You insulted me once before," she said slowly.
"Yes," said Julia. "Even then I was not blinded.... But now I know. I've known ever since the Hunt Ball, when Barnaby——"
"Barnaby—?" Susan repeated the word under her breath as if it was strange to her.
"—When Barnaby said that you were not his wife."
The girl stretched out her hands unconsciously for a support that she did not find. There was a mist between them, and she swayed on her feet. Weak in spirit and body from her long nursing, she felt as if someone had struck her a whirling blow. In a kind of vision she saw Barnaby and Julia dancing;—always Barnaby and Julia dancing;—people had talked that night; they had sympathized with her.... Well might Julia laugh at her disapproving world if he had whispered—that! And it was true. She had only to look in Julia's triumphant face to know that this thing was true.
She could not speak. She turned and walked slowly towards the stairs, and began to go up. On the landing above she waited until Julia had reached her side. Then she went along the corridor without turning her head until they had come to the end.
At Barnaby's door she stopped and, turning the handle, spoke at last to the other woman, the woman to whom he had betrayed her.
"Go to him," she said.
And without another word she left her, and left the house.