She turned up the electric light and seated herself on a couch at one side of the fire. She glanced through the other letters, leaving the one from Belinda to the last.
"Now, what does the creature want?" she said aloud, and at the sound of her own voice, she glanced round the room. She had taken for granted that May had been following behind her and had sat down, somewhere, absorbed in her letters. There was no one in the room and the door was closed. She opened the letter and began to read:
"My dear Lena,
"I am a bit taken by surprise at Gwen's news! How rapidly it must have happened! But I have no right to complain, for it sounds just like a real old-fashioned love at first sight affair, and I can tell by Gwen's letter that she knows her own mind and has taken a step that will bring her happiness. Well, I suppose there is nothing that a mother can do—in such a case—but to be submissive and very sweet about it!"
Lady Dashwood's hand that held the letter was trembling, and her eyes shifted from the lines. She clung to them desperately, and read on:
"I must try and not be jealous of Dr. Middleton. I must be very 'dood.' But just at the moment it is rather sudden and overpowering and difficult to realise. I had always thought of my little Gwen, with her great beauty and attractiveness, mated to some one in the big world; but perhaps it was a selfish ambition (excusable in a mother), for the Fates had decreed otherwise, and one must say 'Kismet!' I long to come and see you all. It is impossible for me to get away to-morrow, but I could come on Saturday. Would that suit you? It seems like a dream—a very real dream of happiness for Gwen and for—I suppose I must call him 'Jim.' And I must (though I shouldn't) congratulate you on so cleverly getting my little treasure for your brother. I know how dear he is to you.
"Yours affectionately,
"Belinda Scott."
Lady Dashwood laid the letter on her knees and sat thinking, with the pulses in her body throbbing. A dull flush had come into her cheeks, and just below her heart was a queer, empty, weak feeling, as if she had had no food for a long, long while.
She moved at last and stood upon her feet.
"I will not bear it," she said aloud.