"He could not do that," declared Shawe, who believed that he was capable of defying the world, much less Sir Joseph.
"Oh, yes, he could, and he would. He would use his money and his influence to prevent any solicitor giving you a brief. He would turn people against you, and would give you a bad name. I know my father's hard nature, and his pertinacious way of following up things. My poor mother told me how he had ruined and disgraced several people who had crossed his path."
Ralph pushed her slightly away from him, and taking her hands looked into her eyes. "And do you think that I am ready to give you up because your father would act in this way?" he demanded. "I am not afraid of Sir Joseph, or of any man. Two people can play at every game, and if your father tries to crush me, he will find that I am not a man to be cast out of his path. If he has money, I have brains, and I am quite willing to pit my intellect against his wealth. Hang Sir Joseph, and a dozen like him; I beg your pardon, dear, for, after all, he is your father."
"A father in name only," said Audrey, admiring her lover's indignation, which was righteous and masterful in her eyes. "You know what I think of him, Ralph. I wish I had a better opinion of his nature, but my experience and my mother's experience--what she has told me--show that my father is a hard man with a strong will. He does not care what anyone suffers so long as he gets his way. The mere fact that he has already decided to marry again--and marry a music-hall artist--shows how callous he is. It's like Hamlet's mother," ended Audrey, bitterly, "with the funeral baked meats not yet cold, as in the play."
Ralph took a turn up and down the room, with a frowning brow and looking deeply perplexed. "What's to be done, then?" he demanded, stopping before the girl. "Things can't go on in this way. You won't marry me--"
"For your own sake I won't marry you at present," interpolated the girl.
"Audrey, you say that your father intends to marry Rosy Pearl as soon as he possibly can without shocking public opinion. When he does, you can't stay in the house, as you declare, and also you say that you will not marry Lord Anvers. Your father, so you tell me, is bound to turn you out if you refuse to obey him, so it seems to me that the evil day is only postponed for a few months."
"I daresay, Ralph. But much may happen in a few months. For one thing, we--you and I--may find out who killed my mother. And even if you had money and could offer me a home, I should refuse to marry you until that truth comes to light."
"But it's impossible, and, after all, can do little good."
"It's not impossible, and can at least punish the assassin. No one but myself cares for my poor mother's memory, and I must avenge her death. Come, dear"--she placed her arms round his neck--"you will be my knight-errant?"