"Will nothing turn you from it?"
"Nothing will turn me from it."
Then suddenly she withdrew her hand and confronted him more closely. "Mine has been a hard life, Mr. Thwaite;—no life could have been harder. But I have always had something before me for which to long, and for which to hope;—something which I might reach if justice should at length prevail."
"You have got money and rank."
"They are nothing—nothing. In all those many years, the thing that I have looked for has been the splendour and glory of another, and the satisfaction I might feel in having bestowed upon her all that she owned. Do you think that I will stand by, after such a struggle, and see you rob me of it all,—you,—you, who were one of the tools which came to my hand to work with? From what you know of me, do you think that my spirit could stoop so low? Answer me, if you have ever thought of that. Let the eagles alone, and do not force yourself into our nest. You will find, if you do, that you will be rent to pieces."
"This is nothing, Lady Lovel. I came here,—at your bidding, to see your daughter. Let me see her."
"You will not go?"
"Certainly I will not go."
She looked at him as she slowly receded to her former standing-ground, but he never for a moment suspected the nature of her purpose. He began to think that some actual insanity had befallen her, and was doubtful how he should act. But no fear of personal violence affected him. He was merely questioning with himself whether it would not be well for him to walk up-stairs into the upper room, and seek Lady Anna there, as he stood watching the motion of her eyes.
"You had better go," said she, as she again put her left hand on the flat board of the open desk.