"My dear lad," she whispered, "I felt certain that you would come to me. Sir George cares nothing so long as he has his comforts. Mary is out of the room; she has gone up to see old Patience, so that you can speak freely. This is a terrible catastrophe; it places that poor child absolutely in the grip of the scoundrel. She recognises that; she is prepared to bow to the inevitable. You have only to look into her face to see what she is going to do. And I am to blame for the whole miserable crime."
"My dear Lady Dashwood, how could you possibly avoid it?"
"Oh, you will know some day when the truth is told. Ah, if you had a bare idea of what a miserable, wicked old woman I am. . . . But there is no occasion to go into that here. The question is, can you help me, can you do anything to prevent this thing? I used to pride myself on the fact that I had a great deal of influence over Mary. But when it comes to a question of family pride, I am helpless. Still, this marriage must be prevented at any cost. If you will not speak out, I shall be compelled to do so."
"There is no occasion," Ralph said. "I pray you to leave me to do this in my own way. Mary will never become the wife of Horace Mayfield."
A murmur of relief came from the aged listener. Her face cleared somewhat, but the tears were still dim in her eyes. At the same time, Ralph's words were a great comfort to her. She laid her fingers on his hand lovingly.
"I like to hear you speak like that," she whispered. "It reminds me of your--of my dear son. Ralph, are you sure that you can carry out your boast?"
"Quite, Lady Dashwood. As surely as I am standing here before you, I can prevent this hateful marriage. I can prevent it even if Mary tries to thwart me. But I must have her decision from her own lips first. I am going to be very cruel to be very kind in the long run. And whatever happens, I am going to ask you to trust me implicitly. Even if things look very dark for us all, you are not to lose your faith. Remember, if events seem to point to the triumph of one who is hateful to you, it is all being done with one end in view. Now promise."
"My dear boy, I promise freely. When you look at me with those brown eyes and speak to me with that voice from the other side of the grave, I could promise you anything. I feel that you have come to save me; that my life is destined to end in peace. But I am afraid that Mary is going to suffer yet."
"Oh, she is," Ralph said almost sternly. "It is good for her that she should suffer. But I shall have no fear for the result after she is tried in the furnace. Maybe I am no better than a Quixotic fool, but I have my aim clear before me. And now I must see Mary for some moments alone."
"I will send her to you," Lady Dashwood murmured as she rose from the chair. "Ralph, you fill me with new hope and courage. I feel that I am going to do some good with the remainder of my life yet. But do not be too hard on the child, remember that she is more or less what I have made her. And may she listen to the voice of reason!"