"I am helpless, my dear," Sir George groaned. "I am the head of the family, and the man who enjoys the revenue of the estates, and I shall probably continue to do so until I die. But for the next six months or so I could not raise a penny on the property, not till the time mentioned in the late owner's will expires, when I become legally possessed of everything, even though a direct heir of Ralph Dashwood appears. Then I can borrow as much money as I please. Now, I am absolutely at the mercy of Horace Mayfield."
The pallor on Mary's face deepened; hope faded from her heart. She was in the toils again and made no attempt to disguise the fact. It was quite immaterial to her who had those papers, so long as they were gone.
"Let me make the position quite clear," she went on, in a hard, level voice. "Let us revert to the condition of affairs existing before those papers were found; let us assume that they never existed at all. You owe a very large sum of money, father, a sum that it is impossible for you to pay. If you fail to raise the amount, which we may take for granted, something like disgrace and dishonour falls on you. That is not your fault, I know, but other people will not think so, and the head of the house of Dashwood will stand before his fellow men stamped as little better than a felon. Is that so?"
"That is the way in which the world will regard it," Sir George groaned.
"Quite so, father. You can't find the money, and nobody will find it for you. As I know already, it is useless to appeal to Lady Dashwood."
"Quite, my dear," Lady Dashwood murmured. "I would give anything to avert the disgrace, but I have nothing. I am a wicked old woman, and my sins are finding me out. I have parted with everything, even to my jewels, to keep a certain secret, and I see now that the sacrifice is going to be all in vain."
Mary turned and laid a soothing hand on the speaker's arm. There was something sweet, almost affectionate in the action.
"A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind," she said bitterly. "After all there is a way out of the trouble, there has been a way out all along. Our blessing in disguise in the matter seems to be Mr. Mayfield. We will ignore for the moment that he has himself brought the situation about for his own ends. The fact remains that he can keep the disgrace away. He has offered to avert the catastrophe at a price. I am the price. By saying one simple word everything is changed. And in six months, you, my father, are master of Dashwood absolutely. I have only to say, 'Yes,' and the thing is done. It is a simple little word, which has been the cause of untold misery to thousands of poor girls. But, after all, there have been greater sacrifices for less satisfactory results. And now let us go into dinner."
The girl spoke quietly enough, but nothing could disguise the bitterness and scorn that rang in every word. It was all very wrong, it was dictated by motives clearly open to question, but in spite of everything, it seemed to Ralph that he had never admired Mary more than he did at that moment. He knew of the anguish of disappointment and despair that filled her cup to overflowing; he could realise the difference that the last half-hour had made to her outlook on life; he knew how much she hated and despised the man to whom she was once more tied by the hands of Fate.
He knew also that filial love and affection had nothing whatever to do with the fatal resolve. It was family pride that was the mainspring of the action. Mary stood there, proud and defiant now, with the lamplight streaming on her face, and Ralph knew now that the time was coming for him to act. The lesson would have to be learned, the bread of affliction must be eaten to the last sour crust.