The Nether Millstone

by Fred M. White

"Please don't call me Miss Dashwood," Mary said. "It makes me feel as if I were not one of you. Yes, I am in the same boat. Still, I dare say----"

Mary's voice trailed off into a whisper. An idea had come to her. She was quite ready to humble her pride now; she no longer shrank from the idea with a pain that was almost physical. If the worst came to the worst, she could telegraph to Lady Dashwood and ask for a few pounds by wire. And yet that seemed a weak thing to do, seeing that she had left the dower house so short a time before, determined to make her way in the world. But that would have to be done before nightfall, unless----

Unless! There was yet another way out of it. The recollection of the dramatic scene between the so-called Sir Vincent Dashwood and Mrs. Speed came with vivid force to Mary. The man had come for some important letter. What the letter was and what it had to do with the Dashwood succession mattered nothing at that moment. At any rate the letter was needed, and Vincent Dashwood had promised to come back for it. And Mary did not fail to remember now what Mrs. Speed had had to say about the trouble she was in over her rent. That trouble had culminated with disastrous swiftness, and to save her furniture the woman had vanished in the night.

With a mind full of her own troubles, she had probably given no heed to Vincent Dashwood. But it was necessary to his success that he should find her.

No doubt he was hanging about now somewhere in the locality of Keppel Terrace waiting for a sign. And here was the desperate chance that Mary needed.

She, too, would spend the next few hours in the neighbourhood of Keppel Terrace. Her mind was made up and she resolved to act without delay. She rose to her feet with a smile and made her way towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Connie asked.

"I have a little idea of my own," Mary said. "I can't tell you everything, because it is in a way mixed up with my private affairs. But I think that I shall be able to get everything back before we sleep tonight. I am not going to be a helpless burden on you two poor dear things. I want you to feel that you have been entertaining the proverbial angel unawares. I may not be back till late, but you need not be anxious. After my experience of last night, I am not afraid of anything."

"Let her go," Grace said, as Connie would have detained the speaker. "She is anxious to do something, and I feel that she will succeed."

Mary went down stairs with a firm, steady tread. She was not in the least afraid now. Whatever she lacked, there was no question of her courage. And she was going off now on an errand of mercy and relief. The knowledge thrilled her, she was conscious of emotions and feelings now that she had never felt before. The warm hot blood was coursing through her veins; there was a gladness about her heart that made her feel strangely young and buoyant. She would have liked to meet Ralph Darnley now and tell him many things that had not occurred to her before. She was ashamed of the way that she had treated that man. And he was good enough for her; as Connie had said, he was good enough for any girl. What did birth matter, what did anything matter, so long as the man was good and true and the woman sweet and tender? It came to Mary with a crushing force that the Dashwood pride was a poor and feeble thing by comparison.