Adela was struck with consternation.  She had been prepared for petulant bewailing, but a vehement outburst of this kind was the last thing she could have foreseen, above all to have it directed against herself.

‘What do you mean, Alice?’ she said with pained surprise.

‘Why, it’s all your doing, I suppose,’ the other pursued, in the same voice.  ’What right had you to let him go off in that. way without saying a word to us?  If the truth was known, I expect you were at the bottom of it; he wouldn’t have been such a fool, whatever he says.  What right had you, I’d like to know?’

Adela calmed herself as she listened.  Her surprise at the attack was modified and turned into another channel by Alice’s words.

‘Has Richard told you what passed between us?’ she inquired.  It cost her nothing to speak with unmoved utterance; the difficulty was not to seem too indifferent.

’He’s told us as much as he thought fit.  His duty!  I like that!  As if you couldn’t have stopped him, if you’d chosen!  You might have thought of other people.’

‘Did he tell you that I tried to stop him?’ Adela asked, with the same quietness of interrogation.

‘Why, did you?’ cried Alice, looking up scornfully.

‘No.’

’Of course not!  Talk about duty!  I should think that was plain enough duty.  I only wish he’d come to me with his talk about duty.  It’s a duty to rob people, I suppose?  Oh, I understand him well enough.  It’s an easy way of getting out of his difficulties; as well lose his money this way as any other.  He always thinks of himself first, trust him!  He’ll go down to New Wanley and make a speech, no doubt, and show off—­with his duty and all the rest of it!  What’s going to become of me?  You’d no right to let him go before telling us.’

‘You would have advised him to say nothing about the will?’

‘Advised him!’ she laughed angrily.  ’I’d have seen if I couldn’t do something more than advise.’

’I fear you wouldn’t have succeeded in making your brother act dishonourably,’ Adela replied.

It was the first sarcasm that had ever passed her lips, and as soon as it was spoken she turned to leave the room, fearful lest she might say things which would afterwards degrade her in her own eyes.  Her body quivered.  As she reached the door Rodman opened it and entered.  He bowed to let her pass, searching her face the while.

When she was gone he approached to Alice, whom he had at once observed: 

‘What have you been up to?’ he asked sternly.

Her head was bent before him, and she gave no answer.

’Can’t you speak?  What’s made her look like that?  Have you been quarrelling with her?’

‘Quarrelling?’

’You know what I mean well enough.  Just tell me what you said.  I thought I told you to stay upstairs?  What’s been going on?’

‘I told her she ought to have let us know,’ replied Alice, timorous, but affecting the look and voice of a spoilt child.