"She is a true woman, honest to the heart's core," said the lover.
"You shall come to-morrow," said the Countess. "Do you hear me, Anna?—he shall come to-morrow. There shall be an end of this in some way, and I am broken-hearted. My life is over for me, and I may as well lay me down and die. I hope God in his mercy may never send upon another woman,—upon another wife, or another mother,—trouble such as that with which I have been afflicted. But I tell you this, Anna; that what evil a husband can do,—even let him be evil-minded as was your father,—is nothing,—nothing,—nothing to the cruelty of a cruel child. Go now, Mr. Thwaite; if you please. If you will return at the same hour to-morrow she shall speak with you—alone. And then she must do as she pleases."
"Anna, I will come again to-morrow," said the tailor. But Lady Anna did not answer him. She did not speak, but stayed looking at him till he was gone.
"To-morrow shall end it all. I can stand this no longer. I have prayed to you,—a mother to her daughter; I have prayed to you for mercy, and you will show me none. I have knelt to you."
"Mamma!"
"I will kneel again if it may avail." And the Countess did kneel. "Will you not spare me?"
"Get up, mamma; get up. What am I doing,—what have I done that you should speak to me like this?"
"I ask you from my very soul,—lest I commit some terrible crime. I have sworn that I would not see this marriage,—and I will not see it."
"If he will consent I will delay it," said the girl trembling.
"Must I beg to him then? Must I kneel to him? Must I ask him to save me from the wrath to come? No, my child, I will not do that. If it must come, let it come. When you were a little thing at my knees, the gentlest babe that ever mother kissed, I did not think that you would live to be so hard to me. You have your mother's brow, my child, but you have your father's heart."