Francine laughs scornfully. “Say at once, you want to go back to Mr. Mirabel.”
“Do you think I should have got up, when you beckoned to me,” Emily rejoins, “if I had not wanted to get away from Mr. Mirabel?”
Instead of resenting this sharp retort, Francine suddenly breaks into good humor. “Come along, you little spit-fire; I’ll manage it for you.”
She leads Emily to the piano, and stops Miss Plym without a word of apology: “It’s your turn to dance now. Here’s Miss Brown waiting to relieve you.”
Cecilia has not been unobservant, in her own quiet way, of what has been going on. Waiting until Francine and Miss Plym are out of hearing, she bends over Emily, and says, “My dear, I really do think Francine is in love with Mr. Mirabel.”
“After having only been a week in the same house with him!” Emily exclaims.
“At any rate,” said Cecilia, more smartly than usual, “she is jealous of you.”
CHAPTER XXXIX. FEIGNING.
The next morning, Mr. Mirabel took two members of the circle at Monksmoor by surprise. One of them was Emily; and one of them was the master of the house.