When Lady Bridget awoke, it was then near the hour at which they ordinarily breakfasted.

Finding, when she had dressed, that all was silent in the next room, she looked in.
It was empty, the bed had not been slept in, but there were signs that McKeith had got into his riding clothes and that he had packed a valise.
Maule was waiting in the dining-room, and Maggie, the serving maid, gave a message from McKeith that he had had his breakfast at the Bachelors' Quarters with Mr Harris and that they were both going to start for Breeza Downs immediately.
Bridget made no pretence of breakfasting.

She told Maule to forage for himself, and, after swallowing a cup of coffee, made the excuse of household business--to see if the Chinaman had put up his master's lunch--if the water-bags were filled--what were to be the proceedings of the day.

She had a hope that McKeith might say something conciliatory to her before he left.

The remembrance of that disregarded appeal--the word 'Mate' to which she had given no response, weighed, a guilty load, upon her heart.
But she was sore and angry--in no mood to make any advance or stoop to self-justification.