“But do you not see, cannot you comprehend,” cried Everard in deep dejection, “how this change in your fortunes affects the whole position of affairs as between you and me? When I sought and won from you a promise to become my wife, I knew you only as Ethel Thursby, a portionless girl no higher in the social scale than myself. To-day I know you as the descendant of an old and honoured family, as the granddaughter of a man both proud and rich, who will naturally be justified in expecting that when Miss Clare marries it will be some person very different from one of his own salaried dependents.”
“When you took me for your promised wife, you did so with your eyes open, knowing me to be what I was—a nameless waif—and having no certainty that one day it might not be shown that I was the offspring of beggars, or worse. But did you allow that prospect to deter you in the least? You know well and I know well that you did not; and if it had been proved that I was the descendant of a family of thieves instead of the Clares of Withington, I have such faith in your love for me that I believe you would still have said: I care not whose child you are; you are still my promised wife.”
“In believing so you do me no more than justice.”
“Then perhaps you will be good enough to explain why the fact that Sir Gilbert Clare is my grandfather should modify or alter in any way the conditions of our engagement.”
“We need scarcely trouble ourselves with the why or the wherefore while the indubitable fact remains. The revelations of the last few hours have served to fix a great gulf between you and me. There is no option left me, none, but to release you from your promise, to give it back to you unconditionally.”
“Oh, how bitterly proud you are!” cried Ethel, her eyes flashing. “But supposing I refuse to be released, supposing I refuse to take back my promise, as I most assuredly do—what then?”
“In that case I can but lay it at your feet. When a prisoner’s fetters are knocked off he has no option in the matter; he is simply told that he is free. There is one point which neither you nor I should allow ourselves for one moment to forget. You can no longer claim to be your own mistress. Your duty and obedience are due to others. Those others will have views, wishes, prospects in connection with one so dear to them which you cannot afford to disregard.”
Ethel shook her head. “Obedience sometimes degenerates into weakness, and wrongs done either to oneself or others are none the less wrongs even if dignified with the name of duty. But I will say no more now, Everard. I see that it would be useless to argue with you. And I must hurry back, for I have long outstayed my time. When we next meet it will be my turn to triumph.” Her eyes laughed up at her lover as he stooped and pressed his lips to hers. Then without pausing she flew towards the house.
Merely taking off her hat and jacket, Ethel went direct to the library, where she found both Sir Gilbert and her father, who had been on the point of going to their rooms to dress for dinner. They both welcomed her with a glad smile.
“I sent in search of you half-an-hour ago, but you were nowhere to be found,” said the Baronet. “Where have you been hiding yourself? But come up to the fire. I can tell the wind has got round to the east again by the twinge in my left shoulder.”