The bride, bridegroom, Mrs. Mortimer, and Rosalie (who had acted as bridemaid) accordingly entered the carriage, which drove away at a rapid pace towards Pimlico.
During the ride the conversation was of that general nature which settled upon no particular topic, and which therefore needs no detail here; and on the arrival of the party at the beautiful little villa in Westbourne Place, Mrs. Mortimer and Laura were speedily closetted together.
The moment they were thus alone, Laura’s countenance suddenly changed; and her features assumed an expression of something more than sternness—for it was rage—as she said in an imperious tone, “Why have you been watching my movements?—and how dared you thus to intrude yourself upon me at such a time and place?”
“Because it is of the utmost importance that I should confer with you at once on a subject of deep interest to us both,” replied Mrs. Mortimer, adopting a voice and manner of such cool insolence as to convince the shrewd and penetrating Laura that some circumstance had transpired to enable the old woman to proclaim her independence.
“And of what nature is that subject?” inquired the young lady, still treating her mother with a coolness almost amounting to disdain.
“In one sense, I am completely in your power: in another sense, you are entirely in mine,” returned Mrs. Mortimer; “and therefore mutual concessions are necessary to enable us both to enjoy peace, and follow our own ways unmolested.”
“You must explain yourself more fully yet,” said Laura, believing the announcement that she was in her mother’s power to allude to the secrets which the old woman might reveal relative to the dissoluteness of her former life. “If you desire me to render you any service,” she added, after a few moments’ pause, “you should not address me in the shape of menaces; because you know my disposition well enough to be fully aware that I am not likely to yield to them, even though my own interests should suffer by my obstinacy in that respect.”
“Perhaps you will talk differently in a few minutes,” observed the old woman. “If we now stand face to face as enemies, it is your own fault.”
“We will not re-argue all the points involved in that accusation,” said Laura. “Remember the scene in Suffolk Street—remember also the remarks which passed between us the other evening in Paris; and then cease to charge me with the misunderstandings that may have sprung up between us. You desired to play the despot’s part—I resisted—and in these few words all our differences are summed up. But I imagine that those differences were settled, and that an arrangement was made, whereby you were to dwell apart from me and receive a quarterly stipend of two hundred pounds. Have you thought better of the business?—or do you require some other terms?”
“Yes—I require other terms, indeed,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer: then, fixing her eyes full upon the countenance of her daughter, she said, “I am in possession of a secret which would ruin you——”