"Lady Rookwood's conduct," said the doctor, "is—you must forgive me, my dear Sir Ranulph, for using strong expressions—outrageous beyond all precedent, and only excusable on the ground of insanity, to which I wish it were possible we could attribute it. There is, however, too much method in her madness to allow us to indulge any such notion; she is shrewd, dangerous, and designing; and, since she has resolved to oppose this match, she will leave no means untried to do so. I scarcely know how to advise you under the circumstances—that is, if my advice were asked."
"Which I scarcely think it likely to be, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, coldly. "After what has occurred, I shall think it my duty to break off this alliance, which I have never considered to be so desirable that its rupture will occasion me an instant's uneasiness."
"A plague on all these Rookwoods!" muttered Small. "One would think all the pride of the Prince of Darkness were centered in their bosoms. But, madam," continued the benevolent doctor, "have you no consideration for the feelings of your daughter, or for those of one who is no distant relation to you—your nephew? Your son, Major Mowbray, is, if I mistake not, most eager for this union to take place between his sister and his friend."
"My children have been accustomed to yield implicit obedience to my wishes," said Mrs. Mowbray, "and Major Mowbray, I am sure, will see the propriety of the step I am about to take. I am content, at least, to abide by his opinion."
"Snubbed again!" mentally ejaculated the doctor, with a shrug of despair. "It is useless attempting to work upon such impracticable material."
Ranulph remained mute, in an attitude of profound melancholy. An eloquent interchange of glances had passed between him and Eleanor, communicating to each the anxious state of the other's feelings.
At this crisis the door was suddenly opened, and old Agnes, Lady Rookwood's aged attendant, rushed into the room, and sank upon her knees on the floor, her limbs shaking, her teeth chattering, and every feature expressive of intense terror. Ranulph went instantly towards her to demand the cause of her alarm.
"No, let me pray," cried Agnes, as he took her hand in the attempt to raise her; "let me pray while there is yet time—let the worthy doctor pray beside me. Pray for an overladen soul, sir; pray heartily, as you would hope for mercy yourself. Ah! little know the righteous of the terrors of those that are beyond the pale of mercy. The Lord pardon me my iniquities, and absolve her."
"Whom do you mean?" asked Ranulph, in agitation. "You do not allude to my mother?"
"You have no longer a mother, young man," said Agnes, solemnly.