Mrs. Tregonell sat like a statue, absorbed in thought, for a considerable time after Lady Cumberbridge's departure. What was she to do? This horrid story was true, no doubt. Major Bree would be able to confirm it presently, when he came back to dinner, as he had promised to come. What was she to do? Allow the engagement to go on?—allow an innocent and pure-minded girl to marry a man whose infatuation for an actress had been town talk; who had come to Mount Royal fresh from that evil association—wounded to the core, perhaps, by the base creature's infidelity—and seeking consolation wherever it might offer; bringing his second-hand feelings, with all the bloom worn off them, to the shrine of innocent young beauty!—dedicating the mere ashes of burned-out fires to the woman who was to be his wife; perhaps even making scornful comparisons between her simple rustic charms and the educated fascinations of the actress; bringing her the leavings of a life—the mere dregs of youth's wine-cup! Was Christabel to be permitted to continue under this shameful delusion—to believe that she was receiving all when she was getting nothing? No!—ten thousand times, no! It was womanhood's stern duty to come to the rescue of guileless, too-trusting girlhood. Bitter as the ordeal must needs be for both, Christabel must be told the whole cruel truth. Then it would be for her own heart to decide. She would still be a free agent. But surely her own purity of feeling would teach her to decide rightly—to renounce the lover who had so fooled and cheated her—and, perhaps, later to reward the devotion of that other adorer who had loved her from boyhood upwards with a steady unwavering affection—chiefly demonstrated by the calm self-assured manner in which he had written of Christabel—in his letters to his mother—as his future wife, the possibility of her rejection of that honour never having occurred to his rustic intelligence.
Christabel peeped in through the half-opened door.
"Well, Aunt Di, is your conference over? Has her ladyship gone?"
"Yes, dear; I am trying to coax myself to sleep," answered Mrs. Tregonell from the depths of her armchair.
"Then I'll go and dress for dinner. Ah, how I only wish there were a chance of Angus coming back to-night!" sighed Christabel, softly closing the door.
Major Bree came in ten minutes afterwards.
"Come here, and sit by my side," said Mrs. Tregonell. "I want to talk to you seriously."
The Major complied, feeling far from easy in his mind.
"How pale you look!" he said; "is there anything wrong?"
"Yes—everything is wrong! You have treated me very badly. You have been false to me and to Christabel!"