"I decline to discuss the matter any further, really I do," Sir George protested. "My dear fellow, your remarks are in bad taste. As a gentleman, you must see that such is the case. I must ask you to change the subject."
Ralph placed a firm bridle upon his tongue. He had almost forgotten himself; he had come very near to betraying the great secret.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "As you say, I am going too far. I shall not err in that way again, but will leave you in peace to your cigar and your claret. Perhaps I shall be able to get some music in the drawing-room. The quietude of this house fascinates me, all the more because I have not been accustomed to this kind of thing."
Sir George smiled in a benign manner.
"I can understand your feelings," he said. "By all means leave me to my cigar. It has been a very disturbing evening."
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
A WARNING
Ralph crossed the great hall in the direction of the drawing-room. He had made up his mind what to do. So far as he could judge, the blow would have to fall before long. When once Mayfield had an inkling of the truth, Ralph felt pretty sure that Mary would be no longer under the necessity of submitting to his persecutions. Mayfield posed as a rich man, and indeed he seemed to have the command of money when he needed it, but Ralph had reason to know that there was a deal of tinsel mixed up with the gold. If it could be proved to Mayfield that Mary was no longer an heiress he would refuse to carry out his part of the contract. He would recognise at once that the whole scheme was a failure, and his cautious philosophy would do the rest.
There were two ways of getting rid of Mayfield, the first being for Ralph to declare his own identity. But by doing so he would go far to defeat his darling ambition of winning Mary's love on his own merits. Still, he had been prepared to run this risk if Mayfield's persecutions continued. But now Fate had placed in his hands another weapon by which it was possible to be rid of Mayfield and carry on the love campaign at the same time. Whether this alternative would have to be used without delay depended on Mary. Ralph meant to see her now and force her to say what she was going to do. There was no time like the present. In the silence and the moonlight this thing should be done.
Just for a moment it seemed to Ralph that the drawing-room was empty. There were the shaded lamps throwing a subdued light on the old furniture and the panelled walls. Ill at ease as he was, Ralph was conscious of the refined, soothing air of the place. Then a gentle voice called him, and he crossed to a distant corner of the room where Lady Dashwood was seated. Her face was white and troubled.