“Yes, they are good.”
“It seems like a dream to me that they should have accepted me as their son-in-law.”
“But it is no dream to me, Felix;—or if so, I do not mean to wake any more. I used to think that I should never care very much for anybody out of my own family;—but now—” And she then pressed her little hand upon his arm.
“And Felix,” she said, as he prepared to leave her, “you are not to go away from Noningsby when the trial is over. I wanted mamma to tell you, but she said I’d better do it.”
LXXV
The Last Day
Mrs. Orme was up very early on that last morning of the trial, and had dressed herself before Lady Mason was awake. It was now March, but yet the morning light was hardly sufficient for her as she went through her toilet. They had been told to be in the court very punctually at ten, and in order to do so they must leave Orley Farm at nine. Before that, as had been arranged over night, Lucius was to see his mother.
“You haven’t told him! he doesn’t know!” were the first words which Lady Mason spoke as she raised her head from the pillow. But then she remembered. “Ah! yes,” she said, as she again sank back and hid her face, “he knows it all now.”
“Yes, dear; he knows it all; and is it not better so? He will come and see you, and when that is over you will be more comfortable than you have been for years past.”
Lucius also had been up early, and when he learned that Mrs. Orme was dressed, he sent up to her begging that he might see her. Mrs. Orme at once went to him, and found him seated at the breakfast-table with his head resting on his arm. His face was pale and haggard, and his hair was uncombed. He had not been undressed that night, and his clothes hung on him as they always do hang on a man who has passed a sleepless night in them. To Mrs. Orme’s inquiry after himself he answered not a word, nor did he at first ask after his mother. “That was all true that you told me last night?”
“Yes, Mr. Mason; it was true.”
“And she and I must be outcasts forever. I will endeavour to bear it, Mrs. Orme. As I did not put an end to my life last night I suppose that I shall live and bear it. Does she expect to see me?”
“I told her that you would come to her this morning.”
“And what shall I say? I would not condemn my own mother; but how can I not condemn her?”
“Tell her at once that you will forgive her.”
“But it will be a lie. I have not forgiven her. I loved my mother and esteemed her as a pure and excellent woman. I was proud of my mother. How can I forgive her for having destroyed such feelings as those?”
“There should be nothing that a son would not forgive his mother.”
“Ah! that is so easily spoken. Men talk of forgiveness when their anger rankles deepest in their hearts. In the course of years I shall forgive her. I hope I shall. But to say that I can forgive her now would be a farce. She has broken my heart, Mrs. Orme.”
“And has not she suffered herself? Is not her heart broken?”
“I have been thinking of that all night. I cannot understand how she should have lived for the last six months. Well; is it time that I should go to her?”
Mrs. Orme again went upstairs, and after another interval of half an hour returned to fetch him. She almost regretted that she had undertaken to bring them together on that morning, thinking that it might have been better to postpone the interview till the trial should be over. She had expected that Lucius would have been softer in his manner. But it was too late for any such thought.
“You will find her dressed now, Mr. Mason,” said she; “but I conjure you, as you hope for mercy yourself, to be merciful to her. She is your mother, and though she has injured you by her folly, her heart has been true to you through it all. Go now, and remember that harshness to any woman is unmanly.”
“I can only act as I think best,” he replied in that low stern voice which was habitual to him; and then with slow steps he went up to his mother’s room.
When he entered it she was standing with her eyes fixed upon the door and her hands clasped together. So she stood till he had closed the door behind him, and had taken a few steps on towards the centre of the room. Then she rushed forward, and throwing herself on the ground before him clasped him round the knees with her arms. “My boy, my boy!” she said. And then she lay there bathing his feet with her tears.
“Oh! mother, what is this that she has told me?”
But Lady Mason at the moment spoke no further words. It seemed as though her heart would have burst with sobs, and when for a moment she lifted up her face to his, the tears were streaming down her cheeks. Had it not been for that relief she could not have borne the sufferings which were heaped upon her.
“Mother, get up,” he said. “Let me raise you. It is dreadful that you should lie there. Mother, let me lift you.” But she still clung to his knees, grovelling on the ground before him. “Lucius, Lucius,” she said, and she then sank away from him as though the strength of her muscles would no longer allow her to cling to him.
