And then that appeal to her woman’s feeling to sympathise with the perturbed mother.
Well, because she was his mother, surely she was blessed enough. What had she—Lorraines—to place against that great fact? She felt painfully that in spite of her success her life was pitifully, hopelessly barren, scarred this way and that, torn and rent and damaged by mistake upon mistake which could never now be rectified.
A nausea of it all made her feel in those tense moments, gazing at the serenely flowing river, that had she a child she would be borne away on the smooth silver water with her little one, out of the fret and turmoil, to some quiet nest in the cliffs at its mouth; and there for the years that were left her she would fill her days with the peaceful, homely joys that had never yet been hers.
But how could she go alone? Only in the uneventful days to find her loneness intensified a thousand times, and without escape.
No; the river would flow on to that serene haven; but never for ever would she and a little one of her own be borne on its motherly bosom to the country of little things and peacefulness.
And the thought only stung her afresh; driving the sting in deep and sharp while this man remained under her roof.
“Well,” he said at last; and in the interval his voice seemed to have regained some of its polished, self-possessed satisfaction. “I see you are deep in thought. You were always tender-hearted, and I felt I should not appeal to your womans heart in vain.”
Her face was turned away, so that he could not see her expression, nor read what was in her eyes, and purposely she let him go on.
“You will, I know, let me go back with the message Mrs. Hermon is waiting for so anxiously. It will be quite simple. No doubt you have countless admirers, and if you summon another, and let Alymer think he is replaced, after the first hot-headed wrath he will quickly become normal again, and apply all his faculties to his profession. I know you are too clever not to appreciate just everything involved, and too generous not to give the young man his best chance.”
Then he cleared his throat, stroked his moustache, and waited, wondering a little why she did not speak. He squared his shoulders again, and glanced round to catch a reflection of himself in the overmantel, then once more stroked his moustache with a sleek air of growing satisfaction.