FATE'S WAY, OR LADY MEG'S
"It's Lady Margaret Duddington," she whispered, rather in a fright. There was time for no more. Lady Meg was upon them. Sophy was identified by her dress, and, to Lady Meg's devouring eyes, by the mark.
"You're the girl who's been behaving so badly?" she said.
Seeing no profit in arguing the merits, Sophy answered "Yes."
At this point Julia observed one old gentleman nudge the other and whisper something; it is morally certain that Pindar whispered to Pikes: "Percival's girl!"
"You seem to like your own way. What are you going to do? Say you're sorry?"
"No. I'm not sorry. I'm going away."
"Come here, girl, let me look at you."
Sophy obeyed, walking up to Lady Meg and fixing her eyes on her face. She was interested, not frightened, as it seemed. Lady Meg looked long at her.
"Going away? Where to?"
Julia spoke up. "She's coming with me, please, Lady Margaret." Julia, it would seem, was a little frightened.
"Who are you?"
"Julia Robins. My mother lives there." She pointed to Woodbine Cottage. "I—I'm on the stage—"
"Lord help you!" remarked Lady Meg, disconcertingly.
"Not at all!" protested Julia, her meaning plain, her expression of it faulty. "And I—I'm going to help her to—to get an engagement. We're friends."
"What's she going to do with that on the stage?" Lady Meg's forefinger almost touched the mark.
35
