"What woman?" asked Hampstead, in disinterested tones, too deeply absorbed in the half cynical reflection which the mission of Elder Burbeck had induced to realize that there was but one woman to whom his sister's manner could refer.
"That—that woman!" replied Rose again, unable to bring herself to mention the name.
"Oh," exclaimed her brother absently, but starting up from his reverie. "Oh, very well; show her in," he directed. His tone and gesture indicated that nothing mattered now.
Rose was evidently surprised at her brother's instruction and for once inclined to protest the supremacy of his will.
"You are not going to see her again?" she argued.
"I know of no one who should be in greater need of seeing me," John rejoined, with sadness and reproach mingled in equal parts.
"But alone? Think of the danger!"
"Seeing her alone has done about all the harm it could do," the brother replied, with a disconsolate toss of his hands, while the drawn look upon his face became more pronounced. "Show her in!"
Rose turned back with a cough eloquent of dissenting judgment and left the door flung wide. John at his distance sensed her feeling of outrage in the fierce rustling of her skirts as she receded down the hall, and presently heard her voice saying icily: "The open door!"
