Lady Tressady at first met her son's sarcasm in angry silence, then broke into shrill denunciation of Shapetsky's "villanies." How could decent people, people in society, protect themselves against such creatures!
George walked to the window, and stood looking out into the April garden.
Presently he turned, and interrupted his mother.
"I notice, mother, that these transactions have been going on for nearly two years. Do you remember, when I gave you that large sum at Christmas, you said it would 'all but' clear you; and when I gave you another large sum last month, you professed to be entirely cleared? Yet all the time you were receiving these letters, and you owed this fellow almost as much as you do now. Do you think it was worth while to mislead me in that way?"
He stood leaning against the window, his fingers drumming on the sill. The contrast between the youth of the figure and the absence of youth in face and voice was curious. Perhaps Lady Tressady felt vaguely that he looked like a boy and spoke like a master, for her pride rose.
"You have no right to speak to me like that, George! I did everything for the best. I always do everything for the best. It is my misfortune to be so—so confiding, so hopeful. I must always believe in someone—that's what makes my friends so extremely fond of me. You and your poor darling father were never the least like me—" And she went off into a tearful comparison between her own character and the characters of her husband and son—in which of course it was not she that suffered.
George did not heed her. He was once more staring out of window, thinking hard. So far as he could see, the money, or the greater part of it, would have to be found. The man, of course, was a scoundrel, but of the sort that keeps within the law; and Lady Tressady's monstrous folly had given him an easy prey. When he thought of the many sacrifices he had made for his mother, of her ample allowance, her incorrigible vanity and greed—and then of the natural desires of his young wife—his heart burned within him.
"Well, I can only tell you," he said at last, turning round upon her, "that I see no way out. How is that man's claim to be met? I don't know. Even if I could meet it—which I see no chance of doing—by crippling myself for some time, how should I be at liberty to do it? My wife and her needs have now the first claim upon me."
"Very well," said Lady Tressady, proudly, raising her handkerchief, however, to hide her trembling lips.
"Let me remind you," he continued, ceremoniously, "that the whole of this place is in bad condition, except the few rooms we have just done up, and that money must be spent upon it—it is only fair to Letty that it should be spent. Let me remind you also, that you are a good deal responsible for this state of things."
Lady Tressady moved uneasily. George was now speaking in his usual half-nonchalant tone, and he had provided himself with another cigarette. But his eye held her.