Justin maintained a discreet silence. It would be sacrilege to relate to this unsympathetic listener the history of the steady, sharp oversight that the father had taken in all matters pertaining to his daughter. Justin would not tell her that Mr. Lancaster had spoken first,—that one day he had turned to him with an abrupt, "You love my daughter, don't you?"
Mrs. Prymmer would only sneer if she should be told that her son's voice had trembled as he had answered, "Yes," and that his cheek had burned under the glance of Mr. Lancaster's keen eyes. Nor would he favour her with an account of his love-making to the spoiled and wayward Derrice. It would not inspire his mother with the same intensity of interest with which it had inspired her son. Therefore he remained thoughtful until she broke the silence by an accusation that goaded him into a response. "You promised your father when he died that you would take care of me."
"I know I did. I have married the only woman I have ever seen who would not be jealous of a mother's appropriation of a son."
Mrs. Prymmer thought over this sentence and decided that it contained an innuendo. "You must choose between us," she said, angrily, "a man must leave father and mother, and cleave to his wife."
"I know it. I should be the last one to gainsay instructions from the Bible."
"My house is not large enough for both," she continued, "I never wanted a daughter-in-law. You have forced one on me."
"You are considerably upset to-night, mother," he said, gently. "I ought to have warned you of my marriage by telegram, but I thought I had rather break it to you myself; you had better think over the matter of our leaving your house."
Her house, yes, it certainly was hers; for she had taken good care that her first husband should leave her in possession of all his worldly goods, and that their son should be dependent on her. However, she was not devoid of feeling, and she knew Justin was not thinking of losing the shelter of her roof, but rather of the sundering of the close ties between them, and, as this thought presented itself, her shrewd and calculating mind recalled the handsome gown of her daughter-in-law, and the costly fur cloak slipping from her shoulders.
"Is that Mr. Lancaster as rich as folks say?" she asked, with a softening of her tone.
"No," he replied, briefly.