“No, Henry: I think that you are right if the girl desires it since,” she added with a touch of bitterness, “it seems to be conceded by the world that the duty which a man owes to his parents and his family cannot be allowed to weigh against the duty which he owes to the partner of his sin. Oh! Henry, Henry, had you but kept your hands clean in this temptation as I know that you have done in others, these sorrows would not have fallen upon us. But it is useless to reproach you, and perhaps you are as much sinned against as sinning. At least you have sown the wind and you must reap the whirlwind, and whoever is to blame, it has come about that the fortunes of our house are fallen irretrievably, and that you must give your honour and your name into the keeping of a frail girl who has neither.” And with a tragic gesture of despair Lady Graves rose and left the room.
“Whether or not virtue brings its own reward I cannot say,” reflected Henry, looking after her, “but that vice does so is pretty clear. It seems to me that I am a singularly unfortunate man, and so, I suppose, I shall remain.”
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE GATE OF PARADISE.
For some days Lady Graves was completely prostrated by this new and terrible misfortune, which, following as it did hard upon the hope of happier things, seemed to her utterly overwhelming. She dared not even trust herself to see her son, but kept her room, sending a message to him to say that she was unwell and did not wish to be disturbed. For his part Henry avoided the house as much as possible. As it chanced, he had several invitations to shoot during this particular week, one of them coupled with an engagement to dine and sleep; and of all of these he availed himself, though they brought him little enjoyment. On the third morning after he had posted his letter, there came a short answer from Mrs. Bird, stating that Joan would be well enough to see him on the following Thursday or Friday; but from Joan herself he received no reply. This note reached him on a Friday, just as he was starting to keep his aforesaid engagement to shoot and sleep. On Saturday he returned to Rosham to find that his mother had gone to town, leaving a note of explanation to be given to him. The note said:—
“DEAR HENRY,—
“I am going to London to stay for a few days with my old friend and your godmother, Lady Norse. Circumstances that have recently arisen make it necessary that I should consult with the lawyers, to see if it is possible for me to recover any of the sums that from time to time have been expended upon this estate out of my private fortune. I am not avaricious, but if I can obtain some slight provision for my remaining years, of course I must do so; and I desire that my claim should be made out legally, so as to entitle me to rank as a creditor in the bankruptcy proceedings which are now, I suppose, inevitable.
“Your affectionate mother,
“E. GRAVES.”
Henry put the letter into his pocket with a sigh. Like everything else, it was sad and humiliating; but he was not sorry to find that his mother had gone, for he had no more wish to meet her just now than she had to meet him. Then he began to wonder if he ought to take any steps to advise Mr. Levinger of his intentions, so that the mortgagee might proceed to recover such portion of the capital advanced as the assets would realise. On the whole he determined to let the matter be for a while. He was sick to death of arguments, reproaches, and affairs; it would be time enough to face these and other disagreeables when he had seen Joan and was about to marry her, or had already done so. There was no pressing need for hurry. By Mr. Levinger’s help arrangements had been made under which the vacant farms were being carried on for the present, and he had a little money in hand. He remembered, indeed, that he was engaged to stay at Monk’s Lodge on the following Friday. Well, he could telegraph from London making his apologies and saying that he was detained in town by business, which would save the necessity of writing an explanatory letter. One step he did take, however: he wrote to an old messmate of his who held an under-secretaryship in the Government, explaining the condition of the estate to which he had succeeded, and asking him to interest himself to obtain him a consulship, no matter how remote, or any other suitable employment. Also he put himself in communication with the Admiralty, to arrange for the commutation of his pension, which of course was not liable for his father’s debts, so that he might have some cash in hand wherewith to start in married life. Then he composed himself to wait quietly at Rosham till the following Friday, when he purposed to go to town.
Lady Graves’s note to Henry was true in substance, but it was not the whole truth. She was still an able and an energetic woman, and her mind had not been idle during those days when she kept her room, refusing to see her son. On the contrary, she considered the position in all its bearings, recalling every word of her interviews with Henry, and of Joan’s letter to him, no sentence of which had escaped her memory. After much thinking she came to a conclusion namely, that while it would be absolutely useless to make any further attempt to turn Henry from his purpose, it was by no means certain that the girl herself could not be appealed to with success. She recollected that, according to Henry’s story, Joan had all along declined to entertain the idea of marrying him, and that even in the mad rhapsody which Mrs. Bird had forwarded, she stated that she could never suffer such a thing, because it would mean his ruin. Of course, as she was well aware, should these two once meet it was probable, it was almost certain, that Joan Haste would be persuaded to retract her self-denying ordinance, and to allow herself to be made Henry’s wife and a respectable member of society. The woman who was so circumstanced and did otherwise would be more than human, seeing that her own honour and the honour of her child were at stake, and that consent meant social advancement to her, and the lifelong gratification of a love which, however guilty it might have been in its beginning, was evidently sincere. But if she could be appealed to before they met, it might be different. At any rate it seemed to Lady Graves that the experiment was worth trying.