She, on the other hand, felt that he was cruel to her. She was weighed down almost to the ground by these sufferings which had fallen on her, and yet he would not be gentle and soft to her. She could have borne it all, she thought, if he would have borne with her. She still hoped that if she remained quiet no further trial would take place. At any rate this might be so. That it would be so she had the assurance of Mr. Furnival. And yet all this evil which she dreaded worse than death was to be precipitated on her by her son! So they sat through the long evening, speechless; each seated with the pretence of reading, but neither of them capable of the attention which a book requires.
He did not tell her then that he had been with Mr. Dockwrath, but she knew by his manner that he had taken some terrible step. She waited patiently the whole evening, hoping that he would tell her, but when the hour came for her to go up to her room he had told her nothing. If he now were to turn against her, that would be worse than all! She went up to her room and sat herself down to think. All that passed through her brain on that night I may not now tell; but the grief which pressed on her at this moment with peculiar weight was the self-will and obstinacy of her boy. She said to herself that she would be willing now to die—to give back her life at once, if such might be God’s pleasure; but that her son should bring down her hairs with shame and sorrow to the grave—! In that thought there was a bitterness of agony which she knew not how to endure!
The next morning at breakfast he still remained silent, and his brow was still black. “Lucius,” she said, “did you do anything in that matter yesterday?”
“Yes, mother; I saw Mr. Dockwrath.”
“Well?”
“I took Peregrine Orme with me that I might have a witness, and I then asked him whether he had spread these reports. He acknowledged that he had done so, and I told him that he was a villain.”
Upon hearing this she uttered a long, low sigh, but she said nothing. What use could there now be in her saying aught? Her look of agony went to the young man’s heart, but he still thought that he had been right. “Mother,” he continued to say, “I am very sorry to grieve you in this way;—very sorry. But I could not hold up my head in Hamworth—I could not hold up my head anywhere, if I heard these things said of you and did not resent it.”
“Ah, Lucius, if you knew the weakness of a woman!”
“And therefore you should let me bear it all. There is nothing I would not suffer; no cost I would not undergo rather than you should endure all this. If you would only say that you would leave it to me!”
“But it cannot be left to you. I have gone to a lawyer, to Mr. Furnival. Why will you not permit that I should act in it as he thinks best? Can you not believe that that will be the best for both of us?”
“If you wish it, I will see Mr. Furnival.”
Lady Mason did not wish that, but she was obliged so far to yield as to say that he might do so if he would. Her wish was that he should bear it all and say nothing. It was not that she was indifferent to good repute among her neighbours, or that she was careless as to what the apothecaries and attorneys said of her; but it was easier for her to bear the evil than to combat it. The Ormes and the Furnivals would support her. They and suchlike persons would acknowledge her weakness, and would know that from her would not be expected such loud outbursting indignation as might be expected from a man. She had calculated the strength of her own weakness, and thought that she might still be supported by that—if only her son would so permit.
It was two days after this that Lucius was allowed the honour of a conference by appointment with the great lawyer; and at the expiration of an hour’s delay he was shown into the room by Mr. Crabwitz. “And, Crabwitz,” said the barrister, before he addressed himself to his young friend, “just run your eye over those papers, and let Mr. Bideawhile have them tomorrow morning; and, Crabwitz—.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That opinion of Sir Richard’s in the Ahatualpaca Mining Company—I have not seen it, have I?”
“It’s all ready, Mr. Furnival.”
“I will look at it in five minutes. And now, my young friend, what can I do for you?”
It was quite clear from Mr. Furnival’s tone and manner that he did not mean to devote much time to Lucius Mason, and that he was not generally anxious to hold any conversation with him on the subject in question. Such, indeed, was the case. Mr. Furnival was determined to pull Lady Mason out of the sea of trouble into which she had fallen, let the effort cost him what it might, but he did not wish to do
