She was so deeply outraged by the idea that Williams did not dare point out to her that she would profit by the marriage. There was something noble about her utter indifference to this aspect of it, but there was something bitter and egotistical in her anger against her sister-in-law for daring to suggest the control of her own destiny. Williams remembered having seen Antonia show the same ruthless, pitiless bitterness toward a servant who had left her voluntarily. She regarded it as an insult from an inferior. Yet in her emotion there was also the wish to protect her brother's memory.
"It will make my brother ridiculous—an old man's widow," she said. "It was bad enough when he married her, but he and I together managed to keep the marriage on a dignified plane. No one could have found anything to laugh at during his life; and now he is dead, after all his kindness and generosity to her, she shall not insult his memory."
"But has she any idea of doing it?" asked Williams. "There is a pretty heavy weight on the other side of the scale."
Miss Southgate clenched her hands.
"I don't know," she said, as if that were extraordinary enough. "I can't read her mind. She says not, and yet she sees him every day."
Williams shook his head.
"She won't do it," he said, and fortunately Miss Southgate did not catch the note of regret in his voice.
He promised to come and dine alone with the two women that evening. He found the little widow more alive than before, more prone to smile and talk, but no less docile in her attitude toward Antonia. There was nothing of the rebel about her, no hint that she was preparing to defy the lightning. And Williams admitted, as he saw the violence of Antonia's determination that the marriage should not take place, that a great deal of courage would be required. As he walked away from the house that evening he said to himself that if he were Hale he would kidnap her and take his chances of happiness.
A day or so later, a jubilant though black-bordered note from Miss Southgate announced that the decision had been made.
"Doris has promised me that she will not marry this man, or any other, without my consent. She is to see him this afternoon at four. I should like you to be with me then, in case he makes a scene at his final dismissal."