“Oh-h!” groaned Adele, in wrath at her helplessness. “Well, tell me this, anyway, how long is this tomfoolery to be kept up?”
“No, don’t ask me,” answered Vestalia, sympathetically at last. “I don’t know. I can only say that I’m as tired of it now as you are. I wish you would believe that. It would make me easier in my mind.”
“Well, I do believe it, then,” the dark girl replied, with impulsive readiness. “Oh, and something occurs to me that I daresay you _can_ tell me. You remember the day at the Museum. Well, the gentleman who was with you called here next day, papa having in the meantime seen you secretly, downstairs. Now, papa seemed clearly annoyed with that gentleman, when he came up and found him here. Now, why was that?”
Vestalia reflected. It was evident enough that the question honestly puzzled her. “All I can think of,” she replied, after consideration, “is that your father had taken it for granted that this gentleman was my husband--and when it came out in our interview that he wasn’t then your father questioned me very closely about him, and it happened that it was a subject upon which I couldn’t very well tell him much, and I daresay he formed an unfavourable opinion of Mr. Mosscrop on that account. That is the only explanation I can think of. I know he said he thought it would be well for me not to see him again, or even hold communication with him--but I did write him a letter that very day all the same.” It was Adele’s turn to ponder. “But why,” she began, hesitatingly, “why should papa take it upon himself to tell you what to do and not to do? What business is it of his? And, if he disliked the thing, why should he remain friendly to you, and snub the gentleman you call Mr. Mosscrop? Not that he minded it, or that it amounted to anything, but it puzzles me that papa should behave in that curious fashion.”
“Yes, it would have been more natural to show the woman the cold shoulder, and think nothing amiss of the man,” assented Vestalia, gravely. “I quite agree with you there.”
“Well, that _is_ the way of the world, isn’t it?” put in Adele, in apologetic tones. “Don’t dream that I suggest anything wrong.”
“Oh no,” said the other patiently, but with a note of weariness in her voice. “It doesn’t matter, one way or the other.”