Mrs. Cromwell closed the door, but she did not sit down or even advance farther into the room. “Cornelia, where have you been all day?” “What? Nowhere in particular.” “Where did you lunch?” “What? Nowhere in particular.” “Cornelia!” “Yes, Mamma.” Cornelia had resumed her armour; her look was moody and her tone fatigued. “Cornelia, I am asking you where you lunched.” “I said, ‘Nowhere in particular,’ Mamma.” “I know you did.” And upon this Mrs. Cromwell’s voice trembled a little. “I wish you to tell me the truth, Cornelia.” Cornelia stood before her, apparently imperturbable, with passive eyes evasive; and Mrs. Cromwell, not knowing that her daughter’s knees were trembling, began to speak with the severity she felt. “Cornelia, your father and I have been talking in the library, and we’ve made up our minds this sort of thing must come to a stop.” “What sort of thing?” “This rudeness of yours, this moodiness and secretiveness.” “I’m not secretive.” “You are. You’re an entirely changed girl. Last year you’d no more have done what you’re doing now than you’d have flown!” “What am I doing now?” “You’re standing there trying to deceive me,” Mrs. Cromwell answered sharply. “But I’m not deceived any longer, Cornelia; I’ve learned the truth. We knew that a change had come over you, and you were moody and indifferent toward your family, but we did at least suppose your mind was on your books. But to-day——” “To-day!” Cornelia cried out suddenly, her look of moodiness all gone. She pointed to her desk. “Were _you_ in here to-day after I went out? Did you——” “You left your door open and your window, and those sheets of paper were blowing clear out into the hall. Naturally, I——” “Mamma!” Cornelia’s voice was loud now, and her finger trembled violently as she pointed to the mountain. “Mamma, did you—did you——” Mrs. Cromwell laughed impatiently. “Naturally, as I picked them up I couldn’t very well help seeing what they were and drawing certain conclusions.” “You _dared_!” Cornelia cried, fiercely. “Mamma, you _dared_!” “Cornelia, you will please not speak to me in that tone. I’m very glad it happened because, though of course I shouldn’t take those little drawings of yours seriously, and they’re of no significance worth mentioning, there was one of them that did shed a light on something I heard later in the afternoon.” “What? What did you hear?” Mrs. Cromwell came a step nearer her, gravely. “Cornelia, you needn’t have tried to deceive me about where you went when you slipped out of the house before lunch and caused me so much anxiety. I telephoned and telephoned——” Cornelia interrupted; her shaking finger still pointed to the desk: “I don’t care to hear this. What I want to know is how you dared—how you _dared_ to——”