What was the meaning of old Lady Mallyan’s coming? Why had Mrs. Dale sent for her? Surely, the girl felt, there could be but one answer to this question; and in that answer lay the key to the mystery about “Mr. Banks.”
Mabin remembered the likeness she had seen in his face, in one of his sterner moments, to the visitor whom she now knew as Lady Mallyan. And she could have little doubt, on putting together the facts of the story she had just heard and the details she knew concerning her father’s tenant, that it was indeed Sir Geoffrey Mallyan’s brother Willie, one of the causes, if not the sole cause, of the tragedy which had wrecked Mrs. Dale’s life, who had settled down, unknown to the lady herself, as her nearest neighbor.
A hot blush came into Mabin’s face, alone though she was, as this conclusion forced itself upon her. For even she, young and innocent as she was, could not help seeing that his behavior, since he had lived at Stone House, was inconsistent with Mrs. Dale’s account of the blameless relations which had existed between them.
Mrs. Dale had represented this “Willie” as a light-hearted young fellow, who had felt only the comradeship of a younger brother toward his brother’s beautiful wife. But “Mr. Banks” had behaved, not only like a lover, but like a lover, once favored, whom despair had driven to the verge of madness.
On the other hand, Mabin, in her loyalty toward her friend, was ready to believe that, even if the feelings these two unhappy creatures had had for each other had been less innocent than Mrs. Dale had represented, they had been themselves less to blame than either of the two other persons concerned in the terrible history.
Mrs. Dale, naturally enough constrained by her own remorse to speak well of her dead husband, had yet been able to give no very attractive picture of the man who had misunderstood his young wife, frightened away her confidence, and allowed himself to be alienated from her by the interference of his mother. And of that mother herself Mabin had seen enough to be more than ready to give her her fair share of the blame.
The young girl’s heart went out, more than it had ever done before, to the little woman, whom nature had made so frivolous, and circumstances so miserable, and around whom misfortune seemed to be closing once more.
It was the one gleam of comfort she had to know how sincerely Mrs. Dale was trying to do what was right in the matter. Instead of attempting to see “Mr. Banks,” which would have been easy enough for her to do, she had sent for his mother, repugnant though such a course must always be to her; so that, whatever indiscretion she might have shown in the past, it was clear that she meant to keep herself free from all suspicion now.
And this was the more creditable on her part, so Mabin felt, since the strange elation she had shown by fits and starts since the day before, when she heard the voice of “Mr. Banks” for the first time, proved clearly that she was not so indifferent, not so unimpressionable, as she had professed to be.
And here Mabin felt her heart grow very tender; she pictured to herself what she would feel, if circumstances were to put Rudolph and herself in the same position toward each other, as were “Mr. Banks” and “Mrs. Dale.”