The butler obeyed and came over to where she sat. He seemed ill at ease and rather apprehensive.
“Bude,” said the girl, “I want you to tell me why you were certain that Mr. Greve was going to Mr. Parrish in the library when he passed you in the hall this afternoon!”
The butler smoothed his hands down his trousers in embarrassment.
“I thought he ... Mr. Greve ... would be sure to be going to fetch Mr. Parrish in to tea, Miss ...” he replied, eyeing the girl anxiously.
Mary Trevert continued gazing into the fire.
“You know it is a rule in this house, Bude,” she said, “that Mr. Parrish is never disturbed in the library ...”
The butler changed his position uneasily.
“Yes, Miss, but I thought ...”
Slowly Mary Trevert turned and looked at the man.
“Bude,”—her voice was very calm,—“I want you to tell me the truth. You know that Mr. Greve went in to Mr. Parrish ...”