"No, we do not believe such a trumped-up falsehood—not for an instant. I see how it is. You have lent yourself to a wicked plan in order to free yourself from poor innocent Ivy, whose greatest weakness has ever been her fondness for you, wicked and treacherous deceiver that you are! You strive for a high prize, in unlimited wealth and the greatest beauty in England. But you will see whether Ivy will tamely endure desertion and disgrace. She declares that she will not give you up, and I shall uphold her in that resolution!"
He stares at her a moment with an expression of fiery scorn and anger, then answers scathingly:
"I am sorry to hear that Ivy is so lost to self-respect as to wish to still live with a man who is bound to her only by a tie of the deepest dishonor and disgrace. But her intentions or yours can make not the slightest difference in what I am going to do. For more than two years I have been the meek slave of you and of Ivy—driven as bond slave was never driven before the triumphal car of your imperious will! You have recklessly dissipated my fortune, defied my warnings, trampled my wishes under foot, shown me all too plainly for mistake that I was married for my money, not at all for myself. The hour of my release has come at last, and with unfeigned gladness I throw off the yoke that has long been too heavy for endurance!"
They stare at him mutely—Mrs. Cleveland purple with rage, Ivy gasping for breath, and preparing to go off into furious hysterics. He takes advantage of the momentary lull in their wrath to proceed, determinedly:
"You must understand by this, Ivy, that as you are no longer my wife, indeed, never have been, that I will not again recognize you as such, and that an immediate separation is desirable. You have so beggared me by your extravagance that it is impossible for me to follow the generous dictates of my heart which would prompt me to bestow a goodly sum upon you. But I shall give you a check for a thousand dollars, and you may retain your dresses and jewels, by the sale of which you may realize a very neat little fortune. I have no more to say beyond expressing the hope that you will leave Darnley House by to-morrow and seek other quarters. I shall not return until you are gone."
While speaking he has laid with elaborate politeness a folded check by Ivy's elbow, and with a formal bow which includes both ladies in its mocking complaisance, he quits the room and the house, to seek that interview with Lady Vera which we have recorded in our last chapter.
"Deserted! Repudiated! Driven from home!" shrieks out Ivy, finding voice at last, and springing tragically to her feet. "Mamma, what shall we do now? Where shall we go?"
"We will go nowhere," Mrs. Cleveland answers, determinedly. "This is your home, and here we shall stay! I defy Leslie Noble to oust us from Darnley House. It will take something more than a cablegram and the oath of a countess to prove that you are not Leslie Noble's wife. Why, her own denial that she was ever buried proves that she is not Vera Campbell. How could she be ignorant of such a tragic event in her own life? No, no, Ivy, we will not quit Darnley House yet. Leslie Noble is not so easily rid of us as he fondly thinks. Darnley House is not ready to receive Countess Vera as its mistress yet. We will hold the fort."
Mrs. Cleveland is equal to most emergencies.