An hour later she called upon Armorel at her rooms.
'You are left quite alone in consequence of this—this amazing revelation?'
'Quite. Not that I mind being alone. And Effie Wilmot is coming.'
'Nothing in the world,' said Philippa, 'could have astonished me more. It is not so much the fact of the marriage—indeed, my cousin's name was mentioned at one time a good deal in connection with hers—but the dreadful duplicity. He sent her to you—she came to us—as a widow. And for three years they have been married! Is it possible?'
'Indeed,' said Armorel, 'I know nothing. She left me without a cause, and now I hear of her marriage. That is all.'
'My dear, the thing reflects upon us. It is my cousin who has brought this trouble upon you.'
'Oh! no, Philippa! As if you could be held responsible for his actions! And, indeed, you must not speak of trouble. I have had none. My companion was never my friend in any sense: we had nothing in common: we must have parted company very soon: she irritated me in many ways, especially in her blind praise of the man who now turns out to be her husband. I really feel much happier now that she has gone.'
'But you have no companion—no chaperon.'
'I don't want any chaperon, I assure you.'
'But you cannot go into society alone.'