The house was so still when they returned that Bessie thought they had started for the drive, when she ran upstairs to take off her habit. She seated herself presently by one of the drawing-room windows with her work, wondering what everyone was doing.
Her work interested her, and she was quietly enjoying herself when she heard quick footsteps in the hall outside, and a moment afterward a door slammed.
“They have come back, I suppose,” thought Bessie; and she worked on, until the drawing-room door opened and Mr. Sinclair came in alone. He seemed surprised to see Bessie, but the next minute he had crossed the room hastily.
“Miss Lambert, will you do me a favor? I cannot find Mrs. Sefton, and I have no one else to ask.”
“Certainly,” returned Bessie, and she rose at once.
Mr. Sinclair looked pale and troubled, and his manner was extremely nervous.
“Then will you be so good as to beg Edna to come down to me for a moment; she has misunderstood—that is, I wish to speak to her—there is a slight misconception. Edna has gone to her own room.”
“I will go at once,” exclaimed Bessie, feeling convinced by his manner that something was very wrong. Edna must have quarrelled with him again. She ran upstairs and knocked on Edna’s door, but received no answer; it was not locked, however, and after a moment’s hesitation she entered.
Edna had evidently not heard her; she was standing by the window in her walking-dress. As Bessie spoke to attract her attention, she turned round and frowned angrily; something in her face made Bessie breathless with apprehension.
“What do you want?” she asked harshly.