“I won’t go near her,” he said; “I only want to know that she is safe and well. I will do whatever she likes, but I must know where she is, and that she has come to no harm.”
“Well,” said Ingram, slowly, “I was talking the matter over with Mrs. Lorraine last night—”
“Does she know?” said Lavender, wincing somewhat.
“Certainly,” Ingram answered. “I did not tell her. I had promised to go up there about something quite different, when she immediately began to tell me the news. Of course it was impossible to conceal such a thing. Don’t all the servants about know?”
“I don’t care who knows,” said Lavender, moodily. “What does Mrs. Lorraine say about this affair?”
“Mrs. Lorraine says that it serves you right,” said Ingram, bluntly.
“Thank her very much! I like candor, especially in a fair weather friend.”
“Mrs. Lorraine is a better friend to you than you imagine,” Ingram said, taking no notice of the sneer. “When she thought that your going to their house continually was annoying Sheila, she tried to put a stop to it for Sheila’s sake. And now, at this very moment, she is doing her very best to find out where Sheila is; and if she succeeds she means to go and plead your cause with the girl.”
“I will not have her do anything of the kind,” said Lavender, fiercely. “I will plead my own cause with Sheila. I will have forgiveness from Sheila herself alone—not brought to me by any intermeddling woman.”
“You needn’t call names,” said Ingram, coolly. “But I confess I think you are right; and I told Mrs. Lorraine that was what you would doubtless say. In any case she can do no harm in trying to find out where Sheila is.”