"I think you have beer downstairs, Susan?" she said, when
the maid appeared at the door.
"Yes, miss."
"A glass of beer for Lady Lydiard," said Miss Pink--under protest.
"Bring it in a jug," shouted her Ladyship, as the maid left the room.
"I like to froth it up for myself," she continued, addressing Miss Pink.
"Isabel sometimes does it for me, when she is at home--don't you, my
dear?"
Miss Pink had been waiting her opportunity to assert her own claim to
the possession of her own niece, from the time when Lady Lydiard had
coolly declared her intention of taking Isabel back with her. The
opportunity now presented itself.
"Your Ladyship will pardon me," she said, "if I remark that my niece's
home is under my humble roof. I am properly sensible, I hope, of your
kindness to Isabel, but while she remains the object of a disgraceful
suspicion she remains with me."
Lady Lydiard closed her fan with an angry snap.
"You are completely mistaken, Miss Pink. You may not mean it--but you
speak most unjustly if you say that your niece is an object of suspicion
to me, or to anybody in my house."
Mr. Troy, quietly listening up to this point now interposed to stop the
discussion before it could degenerate into a personal quarrel. His keen
observation, aided by his accurate knowledge of his client's character,
had plainly revealed to him what was passing in Lady Lydiard's mind.
She had entered the house, feeling (perhaps unconsciously) a jealousy of
Miss Pink, as her predecessor in Isabel's affections, and as the natural
protectress of the girl under existing circumstances.
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