"That depends on yourself," Mayfield said coolly. "You can defy me if you like, and take the consequences. But it shall not be said that I have treated you unfairly. That is why I am giving you another night to think the matter over. Now go and tell Sir George what has happened."
Mary turned on her heel and left the room without another word. There was a sinister smile on Mayfield's lips as he watched the girl's drooping figure.
"The thing will pass as far as she is concerned," he muttered. "And now to tackle Lady Dashwood and have matters out with her."
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
A FLAMING SWORD
Mary dragged herself as far as the library. Sir George was pacing up and down the room, trying to soothe his nerves with a cigar.
"What a time you have been!" he said impatiently. "Why did you not return before, knowing how anxious I should be? Mayfield came for a telegram form, so I presume he has made matters right with you? Did Walters take it?"
"So far as I know, Walters has gone back to bed," Mary explained. "The telegram was not sent, for reasons best known to Mr. Mayfield. There is no occasion to be angry. It was no fault of mine--and has nothing to do with me. Mr. Mayfield suggested that I should have another night to think it over. It is not his code of honour----"
"Code of honour! The fellow hasn't got one! There is no trusting him! And now everybody will know of this disgrace of ours."
"They won't. Mr. Mayfield has arranged all that. He seems to be clever at this kind of thing. But perhaps I had better explain."