“We had them christened,” she said. “It all passed off very well.”
“It is an outrage,” cried Aunt Phœbe, “on my brother’s memory. It must be undone.”
“That I fear can never be,” said Lady Charlotte serenely, folding her hands before her and smiling loftily.
“Their Little White Souls!” exclaimed Aunt Phœbe, and then seizing a weapon from the enemy’s armoury: “I shall write to our solicitor.”
§ 9
Even Lady Charlotte quailed a little before a strange solicitor; she knew that even Grimes held the secret of many tremendous powers; and when Mr. Sycamore introduced himself as having “had the pleasure of meeting your nephew, Mr. Oswald Sydenham, on one or two occasions,” she prepared to be civil, wary, and evasive to the best of her ability. Mr. Sycamore was a very good-looking, rosy little man with silvery hair, twinkling gold spectacles, a soft voice and a manner of imperturbable urbanity. “I felt sure your ladyship would be willing to talk about this little business,” he said. “So often a little explanation between reasonable people prevents, oh! the most disagreeable experiences. Nowadays when courts are so very prone to stand upon their dignity and inflict quite excessive penalties upon infractions—such as this.”
Lady Charlotte said she was quite prepared to defend all that she had done—anywhere.
Mr. Sycamore hoped she would never be put to that inconvenience. He did not wish to discuss the legal aspects of the case at all, still—there was such a thing as Contempt. He thought that Lady Charlotte would understand that already she had gone rather far.
“Mr. Sycamore,” said Lady Charlotte, heavily and impressively, “at the present time I am ill, seriously ill. I ought to have been at Bordighera a month ago. But law or no law I could not think of those poor innocent children remaining unbaptized. I stayed—to do my duty.”
“I doubt if any court would sustain the plea that it was your duty, single-handed, without authorization, in defiance it is alleged of the expressed wishes of the parents.”