Zoe gasped. The variety of explanations of which Kalliopé and her proceedings were capable was becoming bewildering. Under Linton’s stern eye she recovered herself quickly.
“Well, Linton, we must take great care of him, and make sure that she does not carry him away anywhere else, while we watch the papers and see if any child has been lost. I will talk to Kalliopé, and try to find out something more about her, but we must be careful not to let her see she is suspected.”
Unfortunately, Linton was not a person who found it easy to disguise her feelings, when they were of an unflattering character. Her whole demeanour, to Danaë’s quick eye, was instinct with suspicion, and the girl improved the opportunity given her by the night to put her defences in order. The next morning, while Linton was busy in the nursery, Zoe came as usual to sit on the wide verandah when her house-keeping duties were done, to look after Harold, and naturally found Danaë there, keeping an eye on both children. After trying in vain to lead up to things gradually, she asked a direct question.
“Why does Janni wear European clothes, Kalliopé?”
The girl turned with a flash of bright eyes and white teeth. “I wondered when you would notice it, my lady. My sister was in the service of a great Frank lady before her marriage, and the lady has always sent Jannaki the clothes that her own little boy has outgrown.”
“He must grow very fast. The clothes look nearly new.”
“So much the better for Janni, my lady.”
“Why do you call Janni ‘my little lord’—kyriaki mou?” asked Zoe, changing the conversation abruptly.
“But I don’t, lady. Why should I?”
“You called him so to me last night.” Zoe’s voice had hardened, imperceptibly to herself. Danaë gave her one glance out of her black eyes, then laughed confusedly.