Lady Verner pointed to Lionel, who was then passing through the front gates. "I speak of him," she answered: "my darling; my pride; my much-loved son. That woman has worked his ruin."
Decima verily thought her mother must be wandering in her intellect. Lucy could only gaze at Lady Verner in consternation.
"What woman?" repeated Decima.
"She. She who has been Lionel's bane. She who came and thrust herself into his home last night in her unseemly conduct. What passed between them Heaven knows; but she has contrived to cajole him out of a promise to marry her."
Decima's pale cheek turned to a burning red. She was afraid to ask questions.
"Oh, mamma! it cannot be!" was all she uttered.
"It is, Decima. I told Lionel that he could not love her, who had been the wife of another man; and he did not refute it. I told him she must have drawn him into it; and that he left unanswered. He replied that she would be his wife, and must be honoured as such. Drawn in to marry her! one who is so utterly unworthy of him! whom he does not even love! Oh, Lionel, my son, my son!"
In their own grievous sorrow they noticed not the face of Lucy Tempest, or what they might have read there.