“What are you going to defend her against?” asked his wife.
“I won’t have her ill-used because she refuses to marry at your bidding.”
“Bah! You know as much how to manage a girl as though you were an old maid yourself. Cocker her up and make her think that nothing is good enough for her! Break her spirit, and make her come round, and teach her to know what it is to have an honest man’s house offered to her. If she don’t take Larry Twentyman’s she’s like to have none of her own before long.” But Mr. Masters would not assent to this plan of breaking his girl’s spirit, and so there was continual war in the place and everyone there was miserable.
Mary herself was so unhappy that she convinced herself that it was necessary that some change should be made. Then she remembered Lady Ushant’s offer of a home, and not only the offer, but the old lady’s assurance that to herself such an arrangement, if possible, would be very comfortable. She did not suggest to herself that she would leave her father’s home forever and always; but it might be that an absence of some months might relieve the absolute misery of their present mode of living. The effect on her father was so sad that she was almost driven to regret that he should have taken her own part. Her stepmother was not a bad woman; nor did Mary even now think her to be bad. She was a hardworking, painstaking wife, with a good general idea of justice. In the division of puddings and pies and other material comforts of the household she would deal evenly between her own children and her stepdaughter. She had not desired to send Mary away to an inadequate home, or with a worthless husband. But when the proper home and the proper man were there she was prepared to use any amount of hardship to secure these good things to the family generally. This hardship Mary could not endure, nor could Mary’s father on her behalf, and therefore Mary prepared a letter to Lady Ushant in which, at great length, she told her old friend the whole story. She spoke as tenderly as was possible of all concerned, but declared that her stepmother’s feelings on the subject were so strong that everyone in the house was made wretched. Under these circumstances—for her father’s sake if only for that—she thought herself bound to leave the house. “It is quite impossible,” she said, “that I should do as they wish me. That is a matter on which a young woman must judge for herself. If you could have me for a few months it would perhaps all pass by. I should not dare to ask this but for what you said yourself; and, dear Lady Ushant, pray remember that I do not want to be idle. There are a great many things I can do; and though I know that nothing can pay for kindness, I might perhaps be able not to be a burden.” Then she added in a postscript—“Papa is everything that is kind;—but then all this makes him so miserable!”
When she had kept the letter by her for a day she showed it to her father, and by his consent it was sent. After much consultation it was agreed between them that nothing should be said about it to Mrs. Masters till the answer should come; and that, should the answer be favourable, the plan should be carried out in spite of any domestic opposition. In this letter Mary told as accurately as she could the whole story of Larry’s courtship, and was very clear in declaring that under no possible circumstances could she encourage any hope. But of course she said not a word as to any other man or as to any love on her side. “Have you told her everything?” said her father as he closed the letter.
“Yes, papa;—everything that there is to be told.” Then there arose within his own bosom an immense desire to know that secret, so that if possible he might do something to relieve her pain;—but he could not bring himself to ask further questions.
Lady Ushant on receiving the letter much doubted what she ought to do. She acknowledged at once Mary’s right to appeal to her, and assured herself that the girl’s presence would be a comfort and a happiness to herself. If Mary were quite alone in the world Lady Ushant would have been at once prepared to give her a home. But she doubted as to the propriety of taking the girl from her own family. She doubted even whether it would not be better that Mary should be left within the influence of Larry Twentyman’s charms. A settlement, an income, and assured comforts for life are very serious things to all people who have reached Lady Ushant’s age. And then she had a doubt within her own mind whether Mary might not be debarred from accepting this young man by some unfortunate preference for Reginald Morton. She had seen them together and had suspected something of the truth before it had glimmered before the eyes of anyone in Dillsborough. Had Reginald been so inclined Lady Ushant would have been very glad to see him marry Mary Masters. For both their sakes she would have preferred such a match to one with the owner of Chowton Farm. But she did not think that Reginald himself was that way minded, and she fancied that poor Mary might be throwing away her prosperity in life were she to wait for Reginald’s love. Larry Twentyman was at any rate sure;—and perhaps it might be unwise to separate the girl from her lover.
In her doubt she determined to refer the case to Reginald himself, and instead of writing to Mary she wrote to him. She did not send him Mary’s letter—which would, she felt, have been a breach of faith;
