"Your sin?" Mary cried. "If ever there was a good woman in the world, you are one. I hate to hear you speak like that, my more than mother. Surely you must know how good and pure your life has always been. And you talk like this! If there is any mystery here, any secret that lies like a shadow over our house----"
"Was ever a great family without its trouble?" Lady Dashwood asked. "You must not take my foolish words quite so seriously, child. Perhaps by brooding over them, one is apt to magnify troubles. So your father has discovered this will and the deed by which my unhappy boy cut himself off from his inheritance. Strange that the papers should be found just now."
"Why?" Mary asked. "Why just now? Did you know of their existence?"
But Lady Dashwood made no reply. She seemed to be lost in a sea of troubled thoughts. Mary did not repeat the question. After all, it mattered very little either way. Lady Dashwood came to herself with a start.
"But we have the present to think of," she said. "Your father will be able to do as he likes now, therefore the trouble caused by this hostile creditor is all the more to be deplored. He is some business man, I presume?"
"Yes," Mary explained. "By birth a gentleman. His name is Horace Mayfield."
A startled cry came from Lady Dashwood's lips, the grey pallor was on her face again.
"Do you happen to know the man?" Mary asked.
"Oh, yes; I know him and his family. A bad man, a hateful man. Never mention his name to me again. Mary, he must be got rid of at all costs. I have no great head for these things, but I see the necessity of getting out of the hands of Horace Mayfield. As you say, in a week's time it would not matter. As it is the thing is urgent. Is it so utterly impossible to find this money?"
"It is out of the question for us," Mary said haltingly. Her face was burning now that she was coming to the pith of her errand. "My father could not place his hand on a fifth part of the sum. I racked my brains to find the way out. Then it occurred to me that there were certain people who lent money on the security of jewels and valuable plate, and things like that. I had never heard our family jewels mentioned, but I felt quite sure that they existed. My father told me that they were in your possession, that they belong to you so long as I remain single. Dear mother, do you see what I mean? Do not put me to the pain of having to speak more plainly. And it is only for so short a time! By the end of the week the stones will be in your hands again. I could go up to London in the morning and take the jewels to one of the big dealers who do business of this kind. . . . The disgrace would be averted. I hate to come here with a proposal like this, but I can think of no other way. You are not going to refuse me this great favour?"