'Then be prepared for what follows, though it may not be to your liking. You must remember that it is the lady who writes, who has neither seen nor known you.'
Jane nodded. She was choking. But she said hoarsely, 'Go on!' and pointed with her knitting-pin.
Mrs. Jose read, '"Mr. Holwood is resolved that the connection between his daughter and that woman shall cease entirely."'
'Shall cease entirely—that connection,' muttered Jane. Then she looked up and laughed bitterly. 'Can any man make that connection cease entirely—that—the connection between mother and child? She is my daughter; she is more mine than she is his. She has drunk her young life at my bosom. She has lived all that life with me. She has been, she is still, in my heart of hearts. He may tear my limbs away. But he cannot separate Winefred from me. Go on.'
Mrs. Jose, conscious of the pain that she was giving, aware that every word was as the iron tooth of a harrow drawn over the mother's heart, wiped her eyes that were full. Then she continued, '"He is prepared to give Marley an annuity, a liberal allowance, but——"'
'But what?'
'"But Winefred and she must never meet again."'
'It shall not be!' cried Jane, as she beat the table with clenched hand and snapped the steel needle. 'He has ruined my happiness, wrecked my life—nothing, nothing whatever has been left me, nothing, nothing, save only my child, and her he will tear from me. He shall not do it.'
'Pray do not be excited and angry, Jane,' said the farmer's wife. 'You must remember that you yourself desired to have Winefred brought up as a lady.'