"How dare you speak so to my poor sister?" demanded Mrs. Grant, wrath at last overmastering her distress. "If you only knew the real truth of the matter—if you only knew who had suffered and who was to be blamed!—God forgive you your wicked thoughts and your poisonous tongue!"
"Hush, hush, Frances!" interposed Mary, drawing her sister away. "Do not try to convince her. She is not worth it," and the two sisters left the room and walked with fairly firm steps downstairs, where they procured their cloaks, and Mrs. Grant was able, by drawing down her hood, to conceal the traces of her emotion. Mary directed a servant to bring her instrument downstairs, and they awaited it within the cloak-room. A few minutes later the servant knocked at the door, asking for Miss Crawford, and both ladies hastened forward, expecting the announcement of their coach, but Mary drew back on encountering the pale and anxious gaze of Colonel Fitzwilliam, and hearing his eager words: "I feared I had missed you—that you had gone—I searched for you through the rooms—and then I heard you were with my aunt. Is anything the matter, dear Miss Crawford? I fear there is something."
"It is of no consequence, thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam," she replied, speaking with cold pride. "You are come a little too late to be of any assistance. I see the footman has brought my harp, so if you will kindly allow us to leave the house, that is the most you can do."
"I implore you not to speak so, dearest Miss Crawford," he exclaimed, though keeping his voice low on account of the persons standing round. "Is there nothing I can do, nothing I can put right? I could, I am sure, if only I knew what had happened."
"Lady Catherine can best inform you of that," returned Mary in icy tones. "May I again request that you will ask for our carriage?"
"One moment only, and I will not detain you," he said hurriedly. "May I call on you to-morrow, at an early hour? Pray give me permission."
"I shall not be at home to-morrow," answered Mary, and swept proudly past him towards the front door, where a footman had just announced: "Mrs. Grant's carriage stops the way."
"Mrs. Grant!" exclaimed Colonel Fitzwilliam, placing himself beside that lady as she followed her sister, "you will allow me to come and see you? I will not torment your sister, but—you will not close your door on me without at least explaining the reason for this dreadful change?"
"Oh, Colonel Fitzwilliam!" exclaimed Mrs. Grant, with difficulty controlling her agitation, "if you knew all, you would not expect me to receive you; but I cannot altogether refuse, only I must have time to reflect, to consider—and my sister must be my first care."
He could only bow and acquiesce; and he assisted her into the carriage, which immediately rolled away.