“Did you not—embrace her?”
“I did. That’s the truth.”
“And after that you mean to say—”
“After that I mean to say that nothing more was intended.” There was a certain meanness of appearance about the mother which emboldened him.
“What a declaration to make to the mother of a young lady, and that young lady the niece of the Duke of Mayfair!”
“It’s not the first time such a thing has been done, Lady Augustus.”
“I know nothing about that—nothing. I don’t know whom you may have lived with. It never was done to her before.”
“If I understand right she was engaged to marry Mr. Morton when she came to Rufford.”
“It was all at an end before that.”
“At any rate you both came from his house.”
“Where he had been staying with Mrs. Morton.”
“And where she has been since—without Mrs. Morton.”
“Lady Ushant was there, Lord Rufford.”
“But she has been staying at the house of this gentleman to whom you admit that she was engaged a short time before she came to us.”
“He is on his deathbed, and he thought that he had behaved badly to her. She did go to Bragton the other day, at his request—merely that she might say that she forgave him.”
“I only hope that she will forgive me too. There is really nothing else to be said. If there were anything I could do to atone to her for this—trouble.”
“If you only could know the brightness of the hopes you have shattered—and the purity of that girl’s affection for yourself!”
It was then that an idea—a low-minded idea occurred to Lord Rufford. While all this was going on he had of course made various inquiries about this branch of the Trefoil family and had learned that Arabella was altogether portionless. He was told too that Lady Augustus was much harassed by impecuniosity. Might it be possible to offer a recompense? “If I could do anything else, Lady Augustus;—but really I am not a marrying man.” Then Lady Augustus wept bitterly; but while she was weeping, a low-minded idea occurred to her also. It was clear to her that there could be no marriage. She had never expected that there would be a marriage. But if this man who was rolling in wealth should offer some sum of money to her daughter—something so considerable as to divest the transaction of the meanness which would be attached to a small bribe—something which might be really useful throughout life, would it not be her duty, on behalf of her dear child, to accept such an offer? But the beginnings of such dealings are always difficult. “Couldn’t my lawyer see yours, Lady Augustus?” said Lord Rufford.
“I don’t want the family lawyer to know anything about it,” said Lady Augustus. Then there was silence between them for a few moments. “You don’t know what we have to bear, Lord Rufford. My husband has spent all my fortune—which was considerable; and the Duke does nothing for us.” Then he took a bit of paper and, writing on it the figures “£6,000,” pushed it across the table. She gazed at the scrap for a minute, and then, borrowing his pencil without a word, scratched out his Lordship’s figures and wrote “£8,000,” beneath them; and then added, “No one to know it.” After that he held the scrap for two or three minutes in his hands, and then wrote beneath the figures, “Very well. To be settled on your daughter. No one shall know it.” She bowed her head, but kept the scrap of paper in her possession. “Shall I ring for your carriage?” he asked. The bell was rung, and Lady Augustus was taken back to the lodgings in Orchard Street in the hired brougham. As she went she told herself that if everything else failed, £400 a year would support her daughter, or that in the event of any further matrimonial attempt such a fortune would be a great assistance. She had been sure that there could be no marriage, and was disposed to think that she had done a good morning’s work on behalf of her unnatural child.
LXII
“We Shall Kill Each Other”
Lady Augustus as she was driven back to Orchard Street and as she remained alone during the rest of that day and the next in London, became a little afraid of what she had done. She began to think how she should communicate her tidings to her daughter, and thinking of it grew to be nervous and ill at ease. How would it be with her should Arabella still cling to the hope of marrying the lord? That any such hope would be altogether illusory Lady Augustus was now sure. She had been quite certain that there was no ground for such hope when she had spoken to the man of her own poverty. She was almost certain that there had never been an offer of marriage made. In the first place Lord Rufford’s word went further with her than Arabella’s—and then his story had been consistent and probable, whereas hers had been inconsistent and improbable. At any rate ropes and horses would not bring Lord Rufford to the hymeneal altar. That being so was it not natural that she should then have considered what result would be next best to a marriage? She was very poor, having saved only some few hundreds a year from the wreck of her own fortune. Independently of her her daughter had nothing. And in spite of this poverty Arabella was very extravagant, running up bills for finery without remorse wherever credit could be found, and excusing herself by saying that on this or that occasion such expenditure was justified by the matrimonial prospects which it opened out to her. And now, of late, Arabella had been talking of living separately from her mother. Lady Augustus, who was thoroughly tired of her daughter’s company, was not at all averse to such a scheme;—but any such scheme was impracticable without money. By a happy accident
