lady dashwood smiled through her tears. she had eyes of affection for this tall, handsome, earnest man who paced up and down the room now with the burning words on his lips. he was moved to the very heart; it seemed to him that his scheme was the only way. lady dashwood felt that she could hesitate no longer.
"you are very eloquent, ralph," she said, "and whatever the faults of your scheme may be, you are terribly in earnest. it is not for me to stand in the way. god knows the family pride that i did so much to foster has done harm enough. it drove your father away from home, it came between me and my son and my husband, and rendered all the best years of my life a blank and a desolation. some day, when i have the courage, i will tell you why your father left home, and the shameful. deceit that i put upon him. and all to save the family dignity! and now mary is as hard as i ever was. still, the good that lies in that girl of mine----"
"i know it," ralph cried. "mary's is, in reality, a beautiful nature. but the fires will go out one by one if the cinders are not cleared away, so that by the time mary comes to middle age she will be a cold and distant woman with none to love her. this is why i have practically turned her out of house and home. her proper pride will not permit her to be dependent upon anyone; you may offer her a home here, but she will never accept it. she will elect to go, out into the world and get her own living."
"which she is not the least fitted to do, ralph."
"of course she isn't," ralph exclaimed. "with all her courage and pride and beauty, she has no equipment to battle with the world. and yet it is the best thing that could happen to her. she will realise her own helplessness, she will come to acknowledge that the typewriting girls and the shop assistants have qualities and virtues that she does not possess. oh, those lovely blue eyes will come to see at last, the mind come to learn that there is dignity in labour and cheerfulness in the struggle that put family pride to shame. and then mary will be the bride for me, the noblest and sweetest mistress that ever yet ruled at dashwood. you may laugh at me, grandmother, but that is my dream. wherever mary is, i shall not be far off, she will have a friend in me."
lady dashwood's tears were falling fast now. for the first time she fully understood the breadth and beauty of ralph's scheme. it seemed hard that the misfortune should fall upon mary, and yet it was all for the best. still, tradition and training are not to be put lightly aside, and the idea of mary taking her place with the working women of the county was a vision that caused lady dashwood a pang.
"let us hope that everything will turn out right," she murmured. "i will not betray your secret, ralph; i am an old woman, and you are a strong, masterful man. still, i shall be bound to offer mary a home here, and i am afraid that i shall be glad if she accepts it."
"she won't," ralph said confidently, "she is too proud. besides, after what has happened, she could not stay so near to dashwood hall. remember, she has reigned there, she has looked for homage as naturally as a queen. she will go away; probably she will try to obtain some occupation in london. anyway, i will see that she does not starve. and when the lesson is learned and the clouds have cleared away----"
ralph paused, there was a strange, tender thrill in his voice. lady dashwood seemed to catch some of his enthusiasm, for a smile lighted her face.
"you are a clever lad, my dear," she said, "you are one of those who compel fate to work for them. well, it shall be as you desire, so far as i am concerned. and now let us go down and see what the others are doing."
mary was nowhere to be seen, but mr. dashwood was in the library. he seemed more calm and resigned now; he was reading a letter which appeared to give him some satisfaction.
"from--from sir vincent," he said, getting the name out with some difficulty. "i suppose we must call the young fellow by his proper title now. still, he will of course, have to satisfy the family solicitors first."
"i have one or two further proofs that will induce the family solicitors to maintain a policy of silence," ralph said. "the best thing to do is quietly to accept the new situation. people will talk for a day or two, and then the incident will be forgotten."
"i suppose so," dashwood muttered. "anyway, this is from--er--sir vincent. i am bound to confess that it is not at all a bad letter. between ourselves, the fellow is by no means a gentleman. still, that's not quite his own fault, probably his mother was quite a common sort of person. i beg your pardon, lady dashwood."
"we need not go into that," ralph said hastily. "sir vincent has written to you----"
"really quite a nice letter. he has a suggestion to make. it appears that he is by no means disposed to stay quietly here and live the life of a country landlord. he does not care for sport to begin with, in fact, he dislikes a rural life. and he seems to think that marriage is--is not good enough. he therefore proposes that mary and myself should look upon dashwood as our present home, that mary should take her place as mistress there. really, this gets us out of a great difficulty. i have no money beyond a pittance of a hundred or so a year, and mary has nothing whatever. as a sensible girl, she will accept this offer."
ralph said nothing. it was not for him to persuade george dashwood one way or another. he rather despised the weak creature who had posed as the head of the family. but ralph could give a shrewd guess at mary's answer.
mary came back presently a little before tea-time. she had been over at the hall, she said, looking after certain belongings of her own. the trace of tears was still on her face, but her small mouth had a steely purpose. she lay back in her chair in the great hall, sipping her tea, and looking out into the garden beyond. ever and again there came a yearning look in her eyes. she said nothing, and vouchsafed no information, when a footman brought her a telegram presently. with a guilty air her father placed vincent dashwood's letter in her hand.
"i want you to read that, my dear," he said blandly. "to my mind, it is an admirable letter and the sentiments in it are beyond question; in fact, i may admit that i was quite touched by it. the fellow is evidently a gentleman at heart. i want you to read the letter carefully and send a reply on behalf of both of us."
dashwood spoke glibly enough, but he was obviously ill at ease. he seemed to have lost all his dignity, his haggard face looked almost mean as he glanced furtively at mary as she read the letter through, very slowly. her face grew hard and bitter, though something like a contemptuous smile flickered over her lips.
"this is generosity indeed," she said. "so the beggars are to be offered a home, with board and lodging and perhaps wages. i am to be mistress of the house where for two years i have had my own way, in a house where you have been master. we are to humble our pride and take the place of the housekeeper and steward, to be polite to a man whom, from the bottom of my heart, i loathe and despise. oh, the situation would be farcical but for the note of bitter tragedy in it. so you want me to answer this letter. so far as i am concerned i answer thus."
with fierce energy mary tore the letter across and then across again, and flung the fragments amongst the flowers on the great hearthstone.
"my dear," dashwood protested, "really, mary. have you considered what you are going to do, that you are practically penniless?"
"there is always a home for mary and her father here," lady dashwood murmured.
"that--that is very good of you," dashwood stammered, "but i could not think of putting you to so much inconvenience. mary may do what she pleases, but for my part i am going to accept the offer so kindly made by the new--er--head of the family. i presume that mary means to stay here for the present, at any rate, and----"
"no," mary cried. she had risen to her feet, and was glaring from one to the other of the little group with eyes filled with resolution. she was very pale, her lips were trembling, but she contrived to keep her voice steady. "no, i will not remain here, i will not stay anywhere to eat the bread of charity. dear lady dashwood, you will forgive me if i seem to be harsh or ungrateful after all your loving kindness to me. but i have been troubled and humiliated enough, and i could not stand any more of it. my father can do as he chooses: if he likes to humble himself in this way it is no business of mine. but i am going away to london; everything has been arranged. the telegram i had just now confirms it. and i have got my belongings together. my plans are made, and it only remains for me to say goodbye."
lady dashwood rose hastily to her feet. she felt vaguely alarmed and agitated, now that matters had come to this pass. she gripped mary by the hand.
"going," she faltered, "going, and when and where? oh, do nothing hastily."
"there has been nothing hasty about it," mary said as she kissed the speaker. "believe me, i am not doing anything that is rash. and as to the rest, i am going very soon indeed. in fact i expect to sleep in london tonight."
