"Yes," said Mary, "but not to threaten papa; not to say, 'If you are unkind to Mary, our compact is broken.'"
Then she pondered awhile; then she turned to Walter, and said:
"What sort of compact is that? A compact between a father and another gentleman that a father shall not be unkind to his own daughter? Did you ever hear of such a thing?"
"I can't say I ever did."
"Did you ever hear tell of such a thing?"
"Well, now you put it to me, I don't think I ever did."
"And yet you could run off about money. What's money! This compact is a great mystery. It's my business from this hour to fathom that mystery. Please let me think."
Mary's face now began to show great power and intensity; her eyes seemed to veil themselves, and to turn down their glances inward.
Walter was struck with the intensity of that fair brow, those remarkable eyes, and that beautiful face; they seemed now to be all strung up to concert pitch. He kept silent and looked at his wife with a certain reverence, for to tell the truth she had something of the Pythian priestess about her, when she concentrated her whole mind on any one thing in this remarkable manner. At last the oracle spoke:
"Mr. Hope has been deceiving me with some good intention. He pretends to be subservient to papa, but he is the master. How he comes to be master I don't know, but so it is, Walter. If it came to a battle royal, Mr. Hope would side, not with papa, but with me."