Looking over Lady Kathleen's head, Westerham saw the two men glance quickly at each other, their faces a complete study in well-bred astonishment. They bowed to Lady Kathleen, but said nothing. It was Melun who brushed by them and spoke first.
“This is a most unfortunate meeting,” he said to Lady Kathleen, “and as a friend of your father I would suggest that nothing should be discussed here.”
“What do you mean?” stammered Kathleen.
“Nothing, nothing!” said Melun, hastily, “except that this is no fit place for you to remain in. Allow me to show you the way out at once.”
Westerham thrust himself between Kathleen and the two men who had entered with Melun, and spoke to him in a low, fierce voice that could not be heard by the girl, but was perfectly audible to the others.
“I agree with you, you miserable hypocrite,” he said, “she will leave this place at once.”
Melun waved his hand at him blandly. “Quite so,” he said, “quite so. We will have a little talk outside, but there is no reason why we should distress these gentlemen.”
“On the contrary,” returned Westerham, “there is every reason. Gentlemen,” he said, stepping up to the strangers, “I can see that you are well acquainted with this lady, who unfortunately came here without my knowledge, but whom I now regard as under my protection. The situation is, of course, extraordinary, and requires some explanation. If you will be so good, I shall be glad of your company for a few moments.”
Without more ado he pushed the baize-covered door open and first bowed Lady Kathleen out. Melun followed, nervous and ill at ease. He had not looked for so much determination on the part of Westerham.