"Oh, the boy is mad," Mrs. Rent exclaimed. "That woman's beauty has intoxicated you. I see now what a mistake I made when I regarded you as unspotted by the world. My friends were right when they said I should have sent you to a public school and university. Do you suppose for a single moment that I could dream of having that woman here? Do you suppose that I could allow her to come in contact with Ethel Hargrave?"
"Need Ethel know?" Rent suggested sullenly.
"She knows already. I had to tell her. No, you shall stay one night here, but to-morrow you must go elsewhere. I have thought this matter out, and I have made up my mind what to do. Your path is plain. You must make this woman see her folly and return to her husband. But did it never occur to you to ask yourself one question before you took this fatal step? Do you suppose that this woman would have thrown in her lot with you if she had not known that you are Arnold Rent of Alton Lee and the heir to a large property? If I call her and tell her that everything is at my disposal, do you think she would not want time for consideration?"
"You malign her," Arnold cried. "I am certain she never gave the matter a thought. For my sake——"
"Ah, for your sake," Helen Rent said. "That is just the point I want to arrive at. For your sake I am going to try that woman in the balance. We shall see whether she is found wanting or not. From this week your allowance ceases. You will receive no more money from me. You will be thrown upon your own resources. You will have to earn your own living, and you will be the better man for it. The same remark applies to Mrs. Charlock, though not to such an extent, because, until the law settles the differences between her and her husband, she will be entitled to an income. Mr. Westlake told me this—I think he called it maintenance. It will not be much, but, at the same time, it will be enough to keep her in a modest way with due and becoming economy. I don't say that my decision is final, because if I find, say, at the expiration of five years that there is likely to be no more of these self-indiscretions and platonic follies, I may change my mind. But I am not going to see Alton Lee made an asylum for social experiments. Had my prayers been answered and you had asked Ethel to be your wife, I might think differently. But this matter is quite another story. I hope I have made my meaning plain. I hope I have made you understand that you will have to face the world now and work for your own living. You little realise how much it hurts a mother to speak in this fashion. Perhaps you will know some day. Meanwhile, I have nothing to add to what I have said. Do you follow me?"
"Oh, I hear right enough," Arnold said bitterly. "I hope before long that you will realise the cruel injustice of what you are doing. And you may be sure that nothing will make any difference to Kate Charlock. She will be only too proud and pleased to have the opportunity of showing the stuff she is made of. I suppose I have to thank Mr. Westlake for all this."
"Indeed, you are absolutely and entirely wrong," Mrs. Rent exclaimed. "The idea is wholly mine. Of my own feelings I have said nothing. I have not alluded to the terrible grief and disappointment that this thing has been to me. To think that a son of mine could so far forget himself—but it is useless to go into that. I am tired and worn out, and this interview has tried me more than I thought. And there is another element in the drama of which as yet you know nothing. It may surprise you to hear that Mr. John Charlock himself is under this roof."
"He came to see you?" Arnold cried.
"Yes, but under the impression that your folly had ceased. You can imagine how distressing it was when the discovery was made. And now, how am I to get out of this dilemma? You will agree that one of you must go. It only remains for you to make up your mind which it is to be."
"I am prepared to do anything you ask," Arnold said. "But what about Mrs. Charlock? What can we do with her?"