Then Lady Torridon turned and delivered her point, suddenly and brutally.
“Of course he will,” she said. “I suppose then you are not going out, Mistress Atherton.” And she glanced with an offensive contempt at the girl and the monk. Beatrice’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and opened again.
“Why, no, Lady Torridon.”
“I thought not,” said the other; and again she glanced at the two—“for I see the priest is not.”
There was a moment’s silence. Nick was looking at his wife with a face of dismay. Then Beatrice answered smiling.
“Neither are you, dear Lady Torridon. Is not that enough to keep me?”
A short yelp of laughter broke from Nicholas; and he stooped to examine his boot.
Lady Torridon opened her lips, closed them again, and turned her back on the girl.
“But you are cruel,” said Beatrice’s voice from behind, “and—”
The woman turned once more venomously.