"I will, so help me God!" says Rylton very solemnly.
To her it seems an oath of allegiance—kindly, tender, reassuring.
To him it is a solemn abjuration of all his devotion to—the other.
CHAPTER X.
HOW MAURICE GIVES WAY TO TEMPER, AND HOW LADY RYLTON PLANTS A SHAFT OR TWO. AND HOW MARGARET SAYS A WORD IN SEASON, AND HOW IN RETURN COLONEL NEILSON SAYS A WORD TO HER.
Maurice goes straight to his mother's room, not from a sense of duty, but a desire to clinch the matter finally. Lady Rylton would be the last person to permit backsliding where her own interests were concerned, and perhaps—— He does not exactly say it to himself in so many words, but he feels a certain dread of the moment when he shall be alone—a prey to thought. What if he should regret the move he had taken, to the extent of wanting it undone? His step grows quicker as he approaches his mother's room. His interview with her is of the slightest—a bare declaration of the fact. She would have fallen upon his neck in the exuberance of her triumph and her satisfaction, but he coldly repulses her.
"My dear mother, why such enthusiasm over my engagement to a girl of whom you distinctly disapprove?"
"Disapprove! Of Tita! Dearest Maurice, what an idea!"
"We won't go into it," says Maurice, with a gesture of ill-suppressed disgust. "I know your opinion of her. I beg to say, however, I do not share it. Badly as I shall come out of this transaction, I should like you to remember that I both admire and like Miss Bolton."
"I know, dearest boy, I know," says Lady Rylton, in the tone one would use to an acute sufferer. "It is very noble of you, Maurice. It is a sacrifice. I felt sometimes I had no right to demand——"
"The sacrifice is hers," says he shortly, gloomily.