She returned slowly toward the library. Julian attempted to interfere with another word of remonstrance. His aunt stopped him by a gesture which said, plainly, “I insist on acting for myself.” He looked next at Mercy. Would she remain passive? Yes. She never lifted her head; she never moved from the place in which she was standing apart from the rest. Horace himself tried to attract her attention, and tried in vain.
Arrived at the library door, Lady Janet looked over her shoulder at the little immovable black figure in the chair.
“Will you go?” she asked, for the last time.
Grace started up angrily from her seat, and fixed her viperish eyes on Mercy.
“I won’t be turned out of your ladyship’s house in the presence of that impostor,” she said. “I may yield to force, but I will yield to nothing else. I insist on my right to the place that she has stolen from me. It’s no use scolding me,” she added, turning doggedly to Julian. “As long as that woman is here under my name I can’t and won’t keep away from the house. I warn her, in your presence, that I have written to my friends in Canada! I dare her before you all to deny that she is the outcast and adventuress, Mercy Merrick!”
The challenge forced Mercy to take part in the proceedings in her own defense. She had pledged herself to meet and defy Grace Roseberry on her own ground. She attempted to speak—Horace stopped her.
“You degrade yourself if you answer her,” he said. “Take my arm, and let us leave the room.”
“Yes! Take her out!” cried Grace. “She may well be ashamed to face an honest woman. It’s her place to leave the room—not mine!”
Mercy drew her hand out of Horace’s arm. “I decline to leave the room,” she said, quietly.
Horace still tried to persuade her to withdraw. “I can’t bear to hear you insulted,” he rejoined. “The woman offends me, though I know she is not responsible for what she says.”