Mary, when she heard this, seated herself on the chair that was nearest to her. For any service that it might be to her, his coming was too late. As she thought of this, her voice left her, so that she could not speak to him.
"You have found her," said Mr Whittlestaff, very sternly.
"Is there any reason why I should go away again?" He had not at this moment realised the idea that Mr Whittlestaff himself was the man to whom Mary might be engaged. Mr Whittlestaff to his thinking had been a paternal providence, a God-sent support in lieu of father, who had come to Mary in her need. He was prepared to shower all kinds of benefits on Mr Whittlestaff,—diamonds polished, and diamonds in the rough, diamonds pure and white, and diamonds pink-tinted,—if only Mr Whittlestaff would be less stern to him. But even yet he had no fear of Mr Whittlestaff himself.
"I should be most happy to welcome you here as an old friend of Mary's," said Mr Whittlestaff, "if you will come to her wedding." Mr Whittlestaff also had seen the necessity for open speech; and though he was a man generally reticent as to his own affairs, thought it would be better to let the truth be known at once. Mary, when the word had been spoken as to her wedding, "blushed black" as her stepmother had said of her. A dark ruby tint covered her cheeks and her forehead; but she turned away her face, and compressed her lips, and clenched her two fists close together.
"Miss Lawrie's wedding!" said John Gordon. "Is Miss Lawrie to be married?" And he purposely looked at her, as though asking her the question. But she answered never a word.
"Yes. Miss Lawrie is to be married."
"It is sad tidings for me to hear," said John Gordon. "When last I saw her I was rebuked by her step-mother because I was a pauper. It was true. Misfortunes had come in my family, and I was not a fit person to ask Miss Lawrie for her love. But I think she knew that I loved her. I then went off to do the best within my power to remedy that evil. I have come back with such money as might suffice, and now I am told of Miss Lawrie's wedding!" This he said, again turning to her as though for an answer. But from her there came not a word.
"I am sorry you should be disappointed, Mr Gordon," said Mr Whittlestaff; "but it is so." Then there came over John Gordon's face a dark frown, as though he intended evil. He was a man whose displeasure, when he was displeased, those around him were apt to fear. But Mr Whittlestaff himself was no coward. "Have you any reason to allege why it should not be so?" John Gordon only answered by looking again at poor Mary. "I think there has been no promise made by Miss Lawrie. I think that I understand from her that there has been no promise on either side; and indeed no word spoken indicating such a promise." It was quite clear, at any rate, that this guardian and his ward had fully discussed the question of any possible understanding between her and John Gordon.
"No; there was none: it is true."
"Well?"