"Will—you—marry—Maude?" demanded the dowager, with a fixed denunciation in every word, which was as so much slow torture to her victim.
"I wish I could. You must see for yourself, Lady Kirton, that I cannot. Maude must see it."
"I see nothing of the sort. You are bound to her in honour."
"All I can do is to remain single to the end of my days," said Val, after a pause. "I have been a great villain to both, and I cannot repair it to either. The one stands in the way of the other."
"But—"
"I beg your pardon, ma'am," he interrupted, so peremptorily that the old woman trembled for her power. "This is my final decision, and I will not hear another word. I feel ready to hang myself, as it is. You tell me I cannot marry any other than Maude without being a scoundrel; the same thing precisely applies to Anne. I shall remain single."
"You will give me one promise—for Maude's sake. Not, after this, to marry Anne Ashton."
"Why, how can I do it?" asked he, in tones of exasperation. "Don't you see that it is impossible? I shall not see the Ashtons again, ma'am; I would rather go a hundred miles the other way than face them."
The countess-dowager probably deemed she had said sufficient for safety; for she went out and shut the door after her. Lord Hartledon dashed his hair from his brow with a hasty hand, and was about to leave the room by the other door, when Maude came up to him.
"Is this to be the end of it, Percival?"