'Why should I give in to you?' she said inconsequently. 'Why should I not leave my fortune to Jacinth all the same? Why do you take for granted that I shall not do so? should she be punished for your—your obstinacy and quixotry?' and in spite of herself a smile crept over the old lady's face.
'I do not take it for granted,' said Colonel Mildmay. 'I know that you would not act towards Jacinth in such a way as to place her in opposition to her parents. I know that you respect our way of viewing the matter, however you may disagree with it.'
Lady Myrtle seemed mollified.
'You judge me rightly,' she said. 'If one feeling is stronger than another in me, it is respect for parental authority and influence. You are right. I would not so act to your child as to sow discord and disunion between her and those nearest and dearest to her after I am gone. But, let me ask you one thing—is your present decision quite irreversible?'
Colonel Mildmay sat silent for a minute considering deeply.
'Yes,' he said; 'I do not see any choice. I cannot take the London appointment—to live in reality, my dear lady, on your bounty. For that is what it would be. And even if such a position had been possible for me—and I confess I cannot conceive its being so—still less possible would it be now that you know our mind as to the ultimate disposal of things, and that we have been forced to thwart your more than generous, your unprecedented goodness to us.'
'Then you will go to Barmettle?'
Colonel Mildmay bent his head.
'Ah well,' said Lady Myrtle, 'another dream vanished!'
Mrs Mildmay started up at this.