Mr. Loveday did not attempt to dissuade her; he thought that good might come of the visit, if only in the opening of Nansie's eyes to Kingsley's perfidy, of which by this time he was fully convinced. He did not offer to accompany her, knowing that it would lessen the chances of Mr. Manners's seeing her.
She went early in the morning, and sent up her name to the great contractor, and received his reply that he would not receive her. She lingered a moment or two, and cast an imploring glance at the man-servant as though it were in his power to reverse the fiat, but the man looked impassively first at her, then at the door, and she left the house.
What a grand, stately house it was! It almost made her giddy to look to the top. She stood on the other side of the road, watching the door through which she had just passed; her mind was made up to wait, and at all risks to accost Mr. Manners when he came out. She had never seen him, but she was sure she would know him when he appeared. Kingsley had shown her the portrait of his father, and the likeness between them would render mistake impossible. She wondered whether it would have assisted her to bring her baby girl, and wondered, too, how a man so rich and powerful as Mr. Manners could have the heart to behave so harshly to his only child. She had gone no farther than the entrance hall of the stately mansion, but the evidences of wealth which met her eyes had impressed her more deeply than ever with the sacrifice Kingsley had made for her sake. A sense of wrong-doing came to her. She should not have accepted the sacrifice. She should have thought of the future, and should not have allowed herself to be led away by the impetuous passion of her lover. Even the duty she owed to her dear father had been neglected, and she had taken the most solemn step in life without consulting him. It was too late to turn back now, but could she not atone for the wrong she had done? If she said to Kingsley: "Dear husband, let us part; return to your father's home, to your father's heart, and I will never trouble you more;" would he accept the atonement? Would he, would he? A chill fell upon her heart, like the touch of an icy hand, but the sweet remembrances of the past, of the vows they had exchanged, of the undying love they had pledged to each other, brought gleams of sunshine to her. Kingsley had thrown in his lot with her for weal and woe. She would work, she would slave for him, and he should never hear one word of complaining from her lips. If only they were together again! They could be happy on a very little; she would make him happy; she would be bright and cheerful always, and he would draw gladness from her. Their baby was at home, waiting for a father's kisses, for a father's love. If he needed a stronger incentive to be true and faithful, he would find it in his child. Upon the mere suggestion of this possibility she stood up in defence of him. No stronger incentive was needed than the ties which already bound them together. But where was he? What was the reason of his long and heart-breaking silence?
She walked slowly up and down for an hour and more, never losing sight of the door of the rich man's house. She was determined not to go away without seeing him, if she had to remain the whole of the day. It was a weary, anxious time, and it was fortunate for her that she had not much longer to wait. The door opened, and Mr. Manners came forth.
How like he was to Kingsley!--only that his face was harder, and that all that was gentle and tender in Kingsley's face was depicted in his father's in hard, stern lines. But the likeness was unmistakable. He stopped as she glided swiftly to his side and timidly touched his sleeve.
"Well?"
His voice was as hard and stern as his face, and if she had not nerved herself to her task the opportunity would have been lost.
"You would not see me when I called at your house, sir, and I took the liberty of waiting for you here."
He did not ask who she was, and he showed no sign that he was touched by her gentle, pleading manner.
"What do you want?"