The little resolute black figure (still barring the way to the conservatory) was suddenly shaken from head to foot. The woman’s eyes traveled backward and forward between Lady Janet and Horace with the light of a new suspicion in them.
“Grace!” she exclaimed. “What Grace? That’s my name. Lady Janet, you have got the letter! The woman is here!”
Lady Janet dropped Horace’s arm, and retraced her steps to the place at which her nephew was standing.
“Julian,” she said. “You force me, for the first time in my life, to remind you of the respect that is due to me in my own house. Send that woman away.”
Without waiting to be answered, she turned back again, and once more took Horace’s arm.
“Stand back, if you please,” she said, quietly, to Grace.
Grace held her ground.
“The woman is here!” she repeated. “Confront me with her—and then send me away, if you like.”
Julian advanced, and firmly took her by the arm. “You forget what is due to Lady Janet,” he said, drawing her aside. “You forget what is due to yourself.”
With a desperate effort, Grace broke away from him, and stopped Lady Janet on the threshold of the conservatory door.