All this in the quite small pause before her aunt's voice spoke again.
"Unless she's got wind of our coming and flown," it said.
"Our" coming? Who was the other?
Betty was eavesdropping then? How dishonourable! Well, it is. And she was.
"I hope to Heaven she's safe," said another voice. Oh--it was her step-father! He had come--Then he must know everything! She moved, quite without meaning to move; her knee touched the door and it creaked. Very very faintly, but it creaked. Would they hear? Had they heard? No--the aunt's voice again: "The whole thing's inexplicable to me! I don't understand it. You let Betty go to Paris."
"By your advice."
"By my advice, but also because you wanted her to be happy."
"Yes--Heaven knows I wanted her to be happy." The old man's voice was sadder than Betty had ever heard it.
"So we found Madame Gautier for her--and when Madame Gautier dies, she doesn't write to you, or wire to you, to come and find her a new chaperone. Why?"
"I can't imagine why."
"Don't you think it may have been because she was afraid of you, thought you'd simply make her come back to Long Barton?"
"It would surely have been impossible for her to imagine that I should lessen the time which I had promised her, on account of an unfortunate accident. She knows the depth of my affection for her. No, no--depend upon it there must have been some other reason for the deceit. I almost fear to conjecture what the reason may have been. Do you think it possible that she has been seeing that man again?"
There was a sound as of a chair impatiently pushed back. Betty fled noiselessly to the stairs. No footstep followed the movement of the chair. She crept back.
"--when you do see her?" her aunt was asking, "I suppose you mean to heap reproaches on her, and take her home in disgrace?"
"I hope I shall have strength given me to do my duty," said the Reverend Cecil.
"Have you considered what your duty is?"
"It must be my duty to reprove, to show her her deceit in its full enormity."
"You'll enjoy that, won't you? It'll gratify your sense of power. You'll stand in the place of God to the child, and you'll be glad to see her humbled and ashamed."
"Because a thing is painful to me it is none the less my duty."