Clemence, since reading the article in the Times, had secluded herself much from the family; she could not, in the first hours of her anguish, have endured the sight of familiar faces—the torture of being harassed with questions; she shrank even from the idea of sympathy, and could scarcely bear to look upon Vincent, the breathing image of one whom she thought of with grief, only exceeded by her love. Clemence felt it now, however, necessary to communicate with those whose interests were closely linked with her own, and to ascertain the views and feelings of her step-children before replying to the letter of Mr. Gray. With this view, mastering a strong sensation of repugnance, she ascended to the drawing-room, and found herself, on opening the door, in the presence of the assembled family.
Lady Selina was standing near the fire-place in earnest conference with Arabella; Vincent had stretched himself on the velvet rug, leaning upon his crossed arms in an attitude of thought, but he started up on his step-mother’s entrance; Louisa lay on the sofa, her hand pressed over her eyes. There was a sudden break in the conversation when Clemence’s form appeared, and Lady Selina, with a slow and stately air, advanced forward a few steps to meet her.
“Mrs. Effingham,” she commenced, in tones even more cold and formal than usual, “I have been much surprised, greatly astonished to find that you have at once, without consulting any one, dismissed the whole of your husband’s establishment! May I presume to ask your reason for so extraordinary a step?”
“I cannot now afford to keep any such servants,” replied Clemence, gently but firmly.
“Not afford!—really, Mrs. Effingham, your language is incomprehensible! Not afford, with sixty thousand pounds of your own in the funds!”
Clemence leaned on the table for support as she answered, “I will never touch a farthing of that money. I have given up all to the creditors, without reserve.”
“That’s right!” was the hearty exclamation of Vincent. Lady Selina stood for a moment actually speechless! Had she seen Clemence deliberately put an end to her own existence, the lady’s amazement and horror could not have been greater.
“You have done such an insane thing!” she exclaimed at length.
“I have done it!” was the reply of Clemence.
“Then, madam, you have qualified yourself for Bedlam!” cried Lady Selina, condensed fury flashing from her eyes, all sense of what is due from one lady to another lost in the torrent of furious passion. “You have reduced your family to beggary; you have subscribed to the condemnation of your own husband; you have confirmed the opinion which I formed of you from the day when Mr. Effingham had the infatuation to throw himself away on a child—an idiot such as you!”