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A visit she paid to Mildred Vesper, after her call at Miss Barfoot's, prolonged itself so that she did not reach home until the dinner-hour was long past. On arriving, she was met with an outburst of tremendous wrath, to which she opposed a resolute and haughty silence; and since then the two had kept as much apart as possible. Widdowson knew that Monica was going to the Academy.
Monica had not attended that lecture of Miss Barfoot's, and so, it was evident, had purposely deceived her husband. To what end? Where were those hours spent? Mildred Vesper's report supplied grounds for sombre conjecture, and the incident at Sloane Square Station, the recollection of Monica and Barfoot absorbed in talk, seemed to have a possible significance which fired Rhoda with resentment.
For this woman whom she heard just above might perchance be one of Bevis's sisters, returned to London for some purpose or other, and in that case she preferred being seen at Barfoot's door to detection as she made for her lover's. Uncertainty on this point lasted but a few seconds. Dreading to look at the woman, Monica yet did so, just as she passed, and beheld the face of a perfect stranger.
The question of her place of abode had already been discussed. One of Miss Barfoot's young women, who lived at a convenient distance from Great Portland Street, would gladly accept a partner in her lodging an arrangement to be recommended for its economy. Yet Monica shrank from speaking the final word.
If no other resource offered, he would be obliged to make his cousin an accomplice by requesting her beforehand to leave him alone with Rhoda some evening when he had called upon them. But it was time that chance favoured him, and his interview with Miss Nunn came about in a way he could not have foreseen. At the end of the first week of January he was invited to dine at Miss Barfoot's.
To this mode of utterance corresponded his smile, which was frequent, but restrained to the expression of a delicate, good-natured irony. 'No one had told me of your return, were Miss Barfoot's first words as she shook hands with him. 'I fancy because no one knew. You were the first of my kinsfolk to whom I wrote. 'Much honour, Everard. You look very well.
Widdowson, she said at length. 'They have been forced upon my attention, and perhaps I regard them from a wrong point of view. Unless you have come to defend yourself against a false accusation, is there any profit in our talking of these things? 'I have come for that. 'Then I am not so unjust as to refuse to hear you. 'My name has been spoken of together with Mr. Barfoot's. This is wrong.
In an hour or two the outline had grown much clearer; the heights and hollows were no longer doubtful. In the north became visible another remote and hilly tract, it was the coast of Scotland beyond Solway Firth. These distant objects acted as incentives to Rhoda's imagination. She heard Everard Barfoot's voice as he talked of travel of the Orient Express. That joy of freedom he had offered her.
She had determined on making a confession to Rhoda; but would she benefit by it? Was Rhoda generous enough to appreciate her motives? It did not matter much. She would have discharged a duty at the expense of such shame, and this fact alone might strengthen her to face the miseries beyond. As she stood at Miss Barfoot's door he heart quailed.
He insisted, first of all, on hearing a full account of Barfoot's history since they both met. They had corresponded about twice a year, but Everard was not fond of letter-writing, and on each occasion gave only the briefest account of himself. In listening, Micklethwaite assumed extraordinary positions, the result, presumably, of a need of physical exercise after hours spent over his work.
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