"No; let me tell you what I have to say with my head here on your breast. You must not be angry with me, Lance. When I had seen Mr. Sewell, I felt that I could not bear it. I went down to Cawdor and saw Lady Lanswell."
He started with surprise. She raised her face to his, longing to see if he were angry, yet half afraid.
"You went to Cawdor to see my mother," he repeated. "My darling, it was a strong measure. What did she say or do?"
"You are not angry with me for it, Lance?" she asked, gently.
"I angry, my darling? No, a thousand times no. I could not be angry with you. Why did you go—for what purpose?"
"I went to ask her to have pity on us; not to enforce this cruel sentence; to be pitiful to me, because I love you so dearly."
"And her answer?" asked Lord Chandos, eagerly.
"Her answer was everything that was cruel and wicked. Ah, forgive me, Lance, she is your mother, I know, but she has taken in her cruel hands a divine power. She has parted us and I prayed her to be merciful. I told her how dearly we loved each other, but she had no pity—no mercy—no woman's kindness, no sympathy. She was cold, cruel, proud, haughty. She insulted, humiliated and outraged me. She refused to hear one word, and when I left her, I swore to be revenged on her."
The slender form trembled with passion. He drew her even more closely to his breast.
"My darling, you need not think of vengeance," he said. "I am grieved that my mother was unkind to you. Had you consulted me, I should most certainly have said do not go. Mind, I am not angry or annoyed, only so far as this, that I would not have you irritated for the world. I must say that I had always felt that if my mother could see you our cause was won. I did not believe that any creature living could resist that face."