Lady Pomfret gasped.
“Geoffrey! Is Ben going?”
“Yes.”
“After fifty years——!”
“We reached the breaking-point.”
He ignored his son entirely. Lionel had wit enough to remain silent. Indeed, the last blow had stunned him, as it had stunned Lady Pomfret. The Squire continued in the same heavy voice:
“Our guest leaves to-morrow. I take it that we can play our parts at dinner as usual. When Margot has gone, this matter can be taken up again.”
Lady Pomfret inclined her head. The Squire left the room.
“See Ben at once,” said Lady Pomfret. Her voice trembled; her eyes were wet, as she added hastily, “Tell the dear fellow that I am grieved beyond expression, that I—I count upon his patience and forbearance.”
“All that and more, mother. My God! that my happiness should be bought at such a cruel price.”