CHAPTER VI
THE INQUIRY
“Who is there?”
Henrietta lifted her tear-stained face from the pillow and awaited the answer. Three hours earlier, her head aching, her heart full, uncertain what to do or what would follow, she had fled from the commotion below, and, locking herself in her bedroom, had lain down with her misery. It was something to find in the apathy of prostration a brief respite; it was something to close her eyes and lie quite still. For a while she might keep her door locked, might nurse her wretchedness, might evade rude looks and curious questions, might postpone decision.
For the pride that had sustained her in the morning had failed, as the day wore on. Solitude and the lack of food—she had refused to eat at midday—had worn down her spirit. At last tears had come, and plentifully—and repentance. She did not say that the fault was her own, but she knew it, she admitted it. The man had behaved to her wickedly, treacherously, horribly; but she had brought it on herself. He had laid the snare in vain had she not stooped to deceit—had she not consented to mislead her friends, to meet him secretly, to listen to him with as little heed of propriety as if she had been Sue at the forge, or Bess in the still-room. Her own vanity, her own folly, had brought her to the very verge of ruin; and with shame she owned that there was more in the old saws with which her sister-in-law had deafened her than her inexperience had imagined. But the discovery came late. She was smirched. And what—what was she to do? Where could she go to avoid the full penalty—the taunts, the shame, the disgrace that awaited her in the old home?—even if the old home were still open to her.
Meanwhile she got no answer. And “Who is there?” she repeated wearily.
The reply came muffled through the door.
“You are wanted downstairs, lady.”
She rose languidly. Perhaps the time was come. Perhaps her brother was here, had followed, traced, and found her. For the moment she was all but indifferent. To-morrow she would suffer, and sorely; but to-day she had fallen too low. She went slowly to the door and opened it.
Ann stood in the passage.
“They want you downstairs, miss,” she said.