Mr. Hilbery was left confronting the guilty couple, who remained standing as if they did not accept their dismissal, and the disappearance of Katharine had brought some change into the situation. So, in his secret heart, Mr. Hilbery felt that it had, for he could not explain his daughter’s behavior to his own satisfaction.
“Uncle Trevor,” Cassandra exclaimed impulsively, “don’t be angry, please. I couldn’t help it; I do beg you to forgive me.”
Her uncle still refused to acknowledge her identity, and still talked over her head as if she did not exist.
“I suppose you have communicated with the Otways,” he said to Rodney grimly.
“Uncle Trevor, we wanted to tell you,” Cassandra replied for him. “We waited—” she looked appealingly at Rodney, who shook his head ever so slightly.
“Yes? What were you waiting for?” her uncle asked sharply, looking at her at last.
The words died on her lips. It was apparent that she was straining her ears as if to catch some sound outside the room that would come to her help. He received no answer. He listened, too.
“This is a most unpleasant business for all parties,” he concluded, sinking into his chair again, hunching his shoulders and regarding the flames. He seemed to speak to himself, and Rodney and Cassandra looked at him in silence.
“Why don’t you sit down?” he said suddenly. He spoke gruffly, but the force of his anger was evidently spent, or some preoccupation had turned his mood to other regions. While Cassandra accepted his invitation, Rodney remained standing.
“I think Cassandra can explain matters better in my absence,” he said, and left the room, Mr. Hilbery giving his assent by a slight nod of the head.