Then they took some tea in the little
sitting room of the master of all this magnificence. Owen, to her great
annoyance, sat opposite to Beatrice, staring at her with all his eyes
while she drank her tea, with Effie sitting in her lap, and Elizabeth,
observing it, bit her lip in jealousy. She had thought it well to bring
her sister here; it would not do to let Mr. Davies think she was keeping
Beatrice out of his way, but his mute idol worship was trying to
her feelings. After tea they went to the top of the tower, and Effie
rejoiced exceedingly in the view, which was very beautiful. Here Owen
got a word with Elizabeth.
"Your sister seems to be put out about something," he said.
"I daresay," she answered carelessly; "Beatrice has an uncertain temper.
I think she wanted to go out shooting with Mr. Bingham this afternoon."
Had Owen been a less religious person he might have sworn; as it was, he
only said, "Mr. Bingham--it is always Mr. Bingham from morning to night!
When is he going away?"
"In another week, I believe. Beatrice will be sorry, I think; she makes
a great companion of him.
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