The Parson thought that memory supplied him with a parallel, but he replied:
'It is a promise all men make and all men break.'
Lady Oxford struck her hand upon a table.
'You swore you had burned them.'
This time George was less ready with his answer, but her ladyship stood awaiting it.
'My passion must be my excuse, madam; I could not bear to part with these elegant testimonies of your esteem. It is as I have the honour to tell your ladyship; the brocades are in my strong box in my lodgings. To-morrow they shall be restored to your hands.'
'To-morrow!' she said, in a voice of despair. 'To-morrow! I am undone!'
'It is not so long to wait for the finery, and I do not think the streets are so purely unsafe as you suppose.'
'I am undone!' she repeated. 'The public will ring of my name. I shall become a byword, a thing of scorn for every scribbler to aim his wit at.'
She gnawed her fingers in an agony of fear and perplexity. Mr. Kelly had learned enough. There was plainly no chance within the lady's knowledge, as he had hoped, of saving her letters. Neither, then, could the King's papers be saved. He bowed, and took a step towards the door.