“I see,” said Mr. Rowland; “but the fact is that Molly has a little income of her own, and all she wants is a home.”
“A little income of her own!”
“Yes,” he said, meeting with the most impenetrable look the lady’s eager scrutiny. “Did you not know? enough to pay for her board if necessary. She only wants a home.”
“I don’t know what you can think of me,” said Mrs. Stanhope with a little haste. “I should never ask her for any board. She would have her share of whatever was going; and of course if she liked to help me with the children’s lessons—”
“You would allow her to do it, without any compensation? Don’t explain, my dear lady—I know the situation perfectly. And in return for that little arrangement you will help me in getting Evelyn to consent to a speedy marriage. As soon as we understand each other, everything will be perfectly straight.”
“You are such a dreadful man of business. I am not accustomed to such summary ways,” said Mrs. Stanhope, with again a half hysterical laugh. She was very much afraid of him after this experience. No doubt everybody in the station had seen through her actions so far as Evelyn Ferrars was concerned, attributing design and motive where none had existed, and not making any allowances for the unconscious, or only half conscious way in which she was led into taking an advantage of her friend. But nobody had ever ventured to put it into words. She was overawed by clear sight and the courage, and also a little by the practical help of this downright man.
“Yes,” he said, “I’m nothing if not a man of business. Well now, there is another matter. I want it to be a very grand affair.”
She looked at him with eyes more wide open than ever, and with perceptions more fine than his, and a little gasp of restrained horror in the thought—what would Evelyn say?—Evelyn who hoped it would be got over so quietly, that it might not be necessary to let people know: as if everything was not known from one end to another of the station almost before it was fully shaped in the brain from which it came!
“Yes,” he said, “I see you’re horrified—and, probably, so would Miss Ferrars be: so I want you to take the responsibility of everything, and put it on the ground of your gratitude to her, which must take some shape. I need not add, Mrs. Stanhope, if you will do this for me, that a cheque is at once at your disposal—to any amount you may think necessary.”
Anger, humiliation, injured pride, a quick perception of advantage, a rapid gleam of pleasure, the thrill of delightful excitement at the thought of a great deal of money to spend, all darted through Mrs. Stanhope’s mind, and glittered in her eager eyes. The disagreeable sentiments finally died away in the others which were more rational. To have the ordering of a great entertainment regardless of expense, and everybody at her feet, the providers of the same, and the guests, and indeed the whole community eager either for commissions or invitations! This was a temptation more than any woman could resist.