“Mrs. Bishop—did I ever say an unkind word or look a hard look at you? How have I deserved this? Only—I see—because you was under a frightful mistake. I swear to you that my best hope is never to see my Lord Baltimore again. If he is pledged to you—but indeed that concerns me not, only rid me of him and I’ll bless you.”
“We’ll rid you of him effectively, Madam,” interrupts Macheath, very gloomily. “He won’t interfere with Mrs. Walker, I swear!” But Diana did not heed him. She dragged herself to her feet and faced Mrs. Bishop.
“Madam, I now perceive I have stood in your light in more ways than one. For my Lord, be assured there’s no effort of yours I won’t second to escape him. For the stage—I’m sick of it. ’Tis no place for me. I’ll throw up my part tomorrow, and earn my bread in any way that gives me peace. I swear it.”
“Can you give me back my Lord’s heart? Can you undo the disgrace put on me when I was kicked forth from the playhouse and all for your baby face? No, Madam. God himself can’t put back the mischief you’ve done me. I live but to see you in the dust, and afterwards could be content to starve.”
The duel was between the women. They scarce heeded Macheath and he stood watching with an imprecation on his lips. Once more Diana began the hopeless task.
“Madam, I have money and to spare. ’Tis all at your disposal and more if you’ll aid me to leave this house. Set me but in the street and——”
A laugh was the woman’s only answer, but no more was needed. So, seeing she did but beat on marble, she stood a moment despairing, yet entreating some unknown Power in her soul for courage, for understanding to protect herself. But it seemed none took pity. And as she so stood suddenly a thought flashed the blood along her pale cheeks and sent the light to her dimmed eyes.
“Have you thought, Sir, that I shall be missed? The hue and cry will be raised when the Duchess knows I am not come.”
Mrs. Bishop laughed harshly.
“Her Grace’s anxiety was set at rest by a letter under your own hand to say you was otherwise engaged tonight. No, no, Mrs. Fenton. Here you are, and make the best of it. You leave it but as the wife of a man so much too good for you as I wonder he honours you with the offer.”