‘If you please,’ said Madge, attempting to smile; ‘but you are not to be vexed with me, Beatrice.’
‘Not at all, dear,’ was the response, in a slightly hysterical note, as the bell was rung with emphasis; ‘my anxiety is entirely to save you disappointment.’
‘I must risk that.’
The servant who answered Miss Hadleigh’s summons informed her that Mr Hadleigh was in the library.
‘He spends nearly all his time there now,’ said Miss Hadleigh, when the servant had departed with his message; ‘he goes to town seldom, and often does not go out of the house all day.’
She was interrupted by the appearance of her father; and he was so rarely seen in the drawing-room, except for a few minutes before dinner—and not always then, unless when there were guests present—that she was startled by the sudden apparition. Moreover, she had calculated that he would send a message to the effect that he was engaged, or that he would see the visitor in the library, and in either case, she would have been protected from the suspicion of having any share in bringing about the interview. She was determined that she should not be forced to take any active part in it, and not being prepared with an excuse, she said plainly: ‘Madge wants to speak to you,’ and went out of the room.
Mr Hadleigh’s cold face never indicated the emotions of his mind or heart; but his eyes, which followed Miss Hadleigh until the door closed upon her, turned slowly to Madge, met hers, and noting her disturbed expression, seemed to ask for explanation.
‘You so rarely ask to see me, Miss Heathcote, that I am afraid something unpleasant has occurred.’
‘I am sorry to disturb you,’ she began quietly, but the undercurrent of agitation was revealed by the hesitating awkwardness of her manner.
‘You ought rather to say that you know I am willing to be disturbed whenever you wish to see me,’ he rejoined, with that suggestion of a smile which appeared at times to her and to no one else.