"I will at least offer Mildred a shelter in my house."
"'T will avail her nothing; the law is against you," the mother exclaimed furiously. "And for this I toiled and toiled, and placed my child in a position envied of a hundred rivals! For this I plotted, and manœuvred, and wasted hours and hours on that obdurate simpleton; and mined and countermined, and contended with dissension at home, and ill-dissembled malice abroad!"
"You might at least be respectful to your dupe, dear mamma, in my presence."
"Ungrateful! But why do I argue with you?"
Gertrude rose, and leant upon the back of her mother's chair.
"Because," she said, "you know that I am right. Mother, I have no reason to thank you for my marriage. You know it very well. It is true I have no such wretchedness to encounter as would befall Mildred in a match like this. The world thinks me a happy woman. I do not complain. I wear my chains as lightly and gracefully as I can. But they are chains, nevertheless. And you know it, mother. Yet I would fain think you meant me kindly, and it is therefore I remonstrate in poor Mildred's behalf. May we not discuss the affair as friends?"
"It is too late," said Mrs. Pendarrel.
"Too late!" Gertrude exclaimed.
"My word is absolutely pledged to Mr. Melcomb. It is impossible to recede."
"And Mildred only asked yesterday!" said Mrs. Winston, quitting her position, and walking away. "Sold, positively sold, for the contiguity of a few acres!"