"Asking pardon, Ma'am," he said respectfully but firmly. "She shall."
"She sha'n't," I cried, more firmly still. "Susan, you shall not go."
"Asking pardon, Ma'am," said Gibson again. "We are not slaves. We sha'n't never forget your kindness, Ma'am, and we don't hope to find the like again. But you are speaking to Susan's husband, Ma'am, which isn't the same as the groom. Susan's going with me."
"Gibson," I said, "not so fast. You talk as if I am against you both. When have I ever done you wrong?"
"Done me wrong, Ma'am?" he said, harshly and with a darkening face. "Begging pardon, you've done me wrong this very day. You've broke your promise. He's coming tomorrow--and you didn't,----"
"I did," I said hastily. "It'll be at Grandpont in the morning. I posted it to-day. Gibson, you say Susan will marry you. Susan, is it true?"
"Yes, Miss," said Susan faintly. "It is true."
"Then," I said, "why run away? Lord Ruddington is answered. Susan can't marry Gibson and Lord Ruddington too."
"You mean fair, Ma'am," replied Gibson, "and you wish us well. But you are a young lady, Ma'am. Susan don't trust herself to meet him. And I don't neither."
"Gibson, Susan," I asked, "what if I give you both my word that Lord Ruddington will not ask Susan to marry him, and that he will never write to her any more?"