Richard released Miss Brown, got her into position, and gave his hand to Barbara’s foot, as he had seen Mr. Lestrange do. But lifting, he nearly threw her over Miss Brown’s back. She burst into her lovely laugh, clutched at a pommel, and held fast.

“I’m not quite ready to go to heaven all at once!” she said.

“I beg your pardon! I might have known how light you must be!”

“I am very heavy for my size! Good-bye.—Go, Miss Brown!”

She was more peremptory than usual, but Richard rather liked it.

The fact was, Barbara had been irritated that morning, and had got over the irritation, but not quite over the excitement of it. She had half resolved that Miss Brown should never again set hoof within the gates of Mortgrange.

After breakfast lady Ann had sent for her and Barbara had gone prepared for the worst.

The same maid who had been so rude to Richard had watched and seen them go out together. She locked the library window behind them, and went and told lady Ann what she had seen.

When Barbara entered lady Ann’s dressing room, she greeted her with less than her usual frigidity.

“Good morning, my love. You were late last night!” she said.

“I thought I was rather early,” answered Barbara, laughing.

“May I ask where you were?” said her ladyship, with her habitual composure.

“About a mile and a half from here, at the little cottage in Burrow Lane.”

“How did you come to be there—and for so long?” Even placid lady Ann could not prevent a little surprise in her voice. “You were gone for hours.”

“Mr. Tuke came and told me—”

“I beg your pardon, but do I know Mr. Tuke?”

“The bookbinder in the library.”

“Wouldn’t your mother be astonished at your having secrets with a working-man?”

“Secrets, lady Ann!” exclaimed Barbara. “Was I not in the process of telling you all about it? How can you accuse me of such a thing?”

“I am not accustomed to being addressed in this way, Barbara!” said lady Ann, without either raising or quickening her voice.

“Then it is time you learned, if you are going to speak to girls as you have just spoken to me! I am not accustomed to being told that I have a secret with any man—or woman either! I have no secrets!”

“Compose yourself, my child. You need not be afraid of me!” said lady Ann. “I am not your enemy.”

She thought Barbara’s anger came from fear, for she regarded herself as a formidable person.

“I am not afraid of you, lady Ann,” answered Barbara indignantly. “I fear no enemy.”