Part 121 (2/2)
”Your mother will not come down this evening, Mr. Mason.”
”Not come down?”
”No; she is very tired,--very tired indeed. I fear you hardly know how much she has gone through.”
”Shall I go to her?” said Lucius.
”No, Mr. Mason, do not do that. I will return to her now.
And--but;--in a few minutes, Mr. Mason, I will come back to you again, for I shall have something to say to you.”
”You will have tea here?”
”I don't know. I think not. When I have spoken to you I will go back to your mother. I came down now in order that you might not wait for us.” And then she left the room and again went up stairs. It annoyed him that his mother should thus keep away from him, but still he did not think that there was any special reason for it. Mrs. Orme's manner had been strange; but then everything around them in these days was strange, and it did not occur to him that Mrs. Orme would have aught to say in her promised interview which would bring to him any new cause for sorrow.
Lady Mason, when Mrs. Orme returned to her, was sitting exactly in the position in which she had been left. Her bonnet was off and was lying by her side, and she was seated in a large arm-chair, again holding both her hands to the sides of her head. No attempt had been made to smooth her hair or to remove the dust and soil which had come from the day's long sitting in the court. She was a woman very careful in her toilet, and scrupulously nice in all that touched her person. But now all that had been neglected, and her whole appearance was haggard and dishevelled.
”You have not told him?” she said.
”No; I have not told him yet; but I have bidden him expect me. He knows that I am coming to him.”
”And how did he look?”
”I did not see his face.” And then there was silence between them for a few minutes, during which Mrs. Orme stood at the back of Lady Mason's chair with her hand on Lady Mason's shoulder. ”Shall I go now, dear?” said Mrs. Orme.
”No; stay a moment; not yet. Oh, Mrs. Orme!”
”You will find that you will be stronger and better able to bear it when it has been done.”
”Stronger! Why should I wish to be stronger? How will he bear it?”
”It will be a blow to him, of course.”
”It will strike him to the ground, Mrs. Orme. I shall have murdered him. I do not think that he will live when he knows that he is so disgraced.”
”He is a man, and will bear it as a man should do. Shall I do anything for you before I go?”
”Stay a moment. Why must it be to-night?”
”He must not be in the court to-morrow. And what difference will one day make? He must know it when the property is given up.”
Then there was a knock at the door, and a girl entered with a decanter, two wine-gla.s.ses, and a slice or two of bread and b.u.t.ter.
”You must drink that,” said Mrs. Orme, pouring out a gla.s.s of wine.
”And you?”
”Yes, I will take some too. There. I shall be stronger now. Nay, Lady Mason, you shall drink it. And now if you will take my advice you will go to bed.”
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