Ferrier listened attentively; took note of what she reported as to Sir James"s fresh evidence; and when she ceased called upon Chide to explain. Chide"s second defence of Juliet Sparling as given to a fellow-lawyer was a remarkable piece of technical statement, admirably arranged, and unmarked by any trace of the personal feeling he had not been able to hide from Lady Lucy.
"Most interesting--most interesting," murmured Ferrier, as the story came to an end. "A tragic and memorable case."
He pondered a little, his eyes on the carpet, while the others waited.
Then he turned to Lady Lucy and took her hand.
"Dear lady!" he said, gently, "I think--you ought to give way!"
Lady Lucy"s face quivered a little. She decidedly withdrew her hand.
"I am sorry you are both against me," she said, looking from one to the other. "I am sorry you help Oliver to think unkindly of me. But if I must stand alone, I must. I cannot give way."
Ferrier raised his eyebrows with a little perplexed look. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he went to stand by the fire, staring down into it a minute or two, as though the flames might bring counsel.
"Miss Mallory is still ignorant, Oliver--is that so?" he said, at last.
"Entirely. But it is not possible she should continue to be so. She has begun to make inquiries, and I agree with Sir James it is right she should be told--"
"I propose to go down to Beechcote to-morrow," put in Sir James.
"Have you any idea what view Miss Mallory would be likely to take of the matter--as affecting her engagement?"
"She could have no view that was not unselfish and n.o.ble--like herself,"
said Marsham, hotly. "What has that to do with it?" [Ill.u.s.tration: ""DEAR LADY," HE SAID, GENTLY, "I THINK YOU OUGHT TO GIVE WAY!""]
"She might release you," was Ferrier"s slow reply.
Marsham flushed.
"And you think I should be such a hound as to let her!"
Sir James only just prevented himself from throwing a triumphant look at his hostess.
"You will, of course, inform her of your mother"s opposition?" said Ferrier.
"It will be impossible to keep it from her."
"Poor child!" murmured Ferrier--"poor child!"
Then he looked at Lady Lucy.
"May I take Oliver into the inner room a little while?" he asked, pointing to a farther drawing-room.
"By all means. I shall be here when you return."
Sir James had a few hurried words in private with Marsham, and then took his leave. As he and Lady Lucy shook hands, he gave her a penetrating look.
"Try and think of the girl!" he said, in a low voice; "_the girl_--in her first youth."
"I think of my son," was the unmoved reply. "Good-bye, Sir James. I feel that we are adversaries, and I wish it were not so."
Sir James walked away, possessed by a savage desire to do some damage to the cathedral in pith, as he pa.s.sed it on his way to the door; or to shake his fist in the faces of Wilberforce and Lord Shaftesbury, whose portraits adorned the staircase. The type of Catholic woman which he most admired rose in his mind; compa.s.sionate, tender, infinitely soft and loving--like the saints; save where "the faith" was concerned--like the saints, again. This Protestant rigidity and self-sufficiency were the deuce!
But he would go down to Beechcote, and he and Oliver between them would see that child through.
Meanwhile, Ferrier and Marsham were in anxious conclave. Ferrier counselled delay. "Let the thing sleep a little. Don"t announce the engagement. You and Miss Mallory will, of course, understand each other.
You will correspond. But don"t hurry it. So much consideration, at least, is due to your mother"s strong feeling."
Marsham a.s.sented, but despondently.
"You know my mother; time will make no difference."
"I"m not so sure--I"m not so sure," said Ferrier, cheerfully. "Did your mother say anything about--finances?"
Marsham gave a gloomy smile.
"I shall be a pauper, of course--that was made quite plain to me."
"No, no!--that must be prevented!" said Ferrier, with energy.
Marsham was not quick to reply. His manner as he stood with his back to the fire, his distinguished head well thrown back on his straight, lean shoulders, was the manner of a proud man suffering humiliation. He was thirty-six, and rapidly becoming a politician of importance. Yet here he was--poor and impotent, in the midst of great wealth, wholly dependent, by his father"s monstrous will, on his mother"s caprice--liable to be thwarted and commanded, as though he were a boy of fifteen. Up till now Lady Lucy"s yoke had been tolerable; to-day it galled beyond endurance.
Moreover, there was something peculiarly irritating at the moment in Ferrier"s intervention. There had been increased Parliamentary friction of late between the two men, in spite of the intimacy of their personal relations. To be forced to owe fortune, career, and the permission to marry as he pleased to Ferrier"s influence with his mother was, at this juncture, a bitter pill for Oliver Marsham.
Ferrier understood him perfectly, and he had never displayed more kindness or more tact than in the conversation which pa.s.sed between them. Marsham finally agreed that Diana must be frankly informed of his mother"s state of mind, and that a waiting policy offered the only hope.
On this they were retiring to the front drawing-room when Lady Lucy opened the communicating door.
"A letter for you, Oliver."
He took it, and turned it over. The handwriting was unknown to him.
"Who brought this?" he asked of the butler standing behind his mother.
"A servant, sir, from Beechcote Manor, He was told to wait for an answer."
"I will send one. Come when I ring."
The butler departed, and Marsham went hurriedly into the inner room, closing the door behind him. Ferrier and Lady Lucy were left, looking at each other in anxiety. But before they could put it into words, Marsham reappeared, in evident agitation. He hurried to the bell and rang it.
Lady Lucy pointedly made no inquiry. But Ferrier spoke.
"No bad news, I hope?"
Marsham turned.
"She has been told?" he said, hoa.r.s.ely, "Mrs. Colwood, her companion, speaks of "shock." I must go down at once."