"You think so, perhaps; but let me tell you the best course for you to pursue is to make terms, either with Ralph Mainwaring, as I first suggested, or else with this new-comer—should he prove victorious—by threatening to expose his whole scheme."
Mrs. LaGrange made no reply, and Hobson, rising to take leave, saw her face for the first time and paused, surprised at its strange expression.
"Well?" he said, with a look of inquiry.
"My thoughts were wandering just then," she said, with a faint smile, and her tone was so changed the voice scarcely seemed her own. "I was wishing, just for the moment, that this stranger, whoever he may be, was in reality the one he claims to be. I would need no attorney to make terms with him then!"
"You forget; he would be a Mainwaring!"
"Yes; but he would be the only Mainwaring and the only human being I could ever have loved, and I would have loved him better than my own life."
"Love!" repeated Hobson, with a sneer. "Who would ever have thought to hear that word from your lips! But how about your son, Walter; do you not love him?"
"Him!" she exclaimed, passionately; "the price I paid hoping to win Hugh Mainwaring! I am proud of him as my own flesh and blood, but love him? Never!"
"But you have not yet told me what you think of my last suggestion," he said, tentatively, watching her closely. Her manner changed instantly; rising with all her accustomed hauteur and turning from him with a gesture of dismissal, she replied,—
"Come to me later, when I shall have measured lances with our new opponent, and you shall have your answer."