“It would be best,” was the brief reply.
The thought occurred to him that she loved him, and that jealousy had prompted her to utter that remark.
“Why?” he inquired, rather sharply.
“Mr Trethowen—Hugh, hear me,” she said imploringly, laying her hand upon his arm. “My friendship is as sincere towards you as towards Mr Egerton, but I cannot help telling you frankly what I think.”
“Well, and what are those fearful apprehensions of yours, Dolly?” he asked, regarding her with an amused expression.
“Forgive me for speaking so plainly, but I somehow feel confident that this foreign woman will bring you only sorrow and misery.”
“That’s cheering,” he remarked in his usual light and airy manner.
“Think seriously, and you will find I have some cause for apprehension,” she continued in earnest tones. “Remember Jack, your friend, has warned you. He has told you that she is not a fitting wife for you. Besides, are you not convinced that there is some strange secret tie between them?”
“You are right, Dolly. It is an enigma I cannot solve. Sometimes I have even thought that he is afraid of her,” Hugh said gravely.
“I feel sure he is. When she visited him on the first occasion they had high words, and though I could not understand, because they spoke in French, yet I’m absolutely certain she was threatening him.”