Part 5 (1/2)

”Yes, I know. I am to remain----” Frances pa.s.sed her hand once or twice over her mouth irresolutely. ”But Oxford, George?” she said.

”You forget your examinations?”

George took off his spectacles and wiped them.

”Speak! Have you no mind of your own?” his wife whispered. ”I will tell you, then, madam. He has done with that silly whim! A priest, indeed! I am Catholic, and priests do not marry. He goes to Paris to study art. I see a great future for him, in art.”

Frances stared at him, and then sat down, dully. What did it matter?

Paris or Oxford? She would not be there. What did it matter?

Lisa waited a moment for some comment, and then began sharply, ”Now, we come to affaires! Listen, if you please. I am a woman of business.

Plain speaking is always best, to my idea.”

Mrs. Waldeaux drew herself together and turned her eyes on her with sudden apprehension, as she would on a snapping dog. The woman's tones threatened attack.

”To live in Paris, to work effectively, your son must have money. I brought him no dot, alas! Except”--with a burlesque courtesy--”my beauty and my blood. I must know how much money we shall have before I design the menage.”

”George has his income,” said his mother hastily.

”Ah! You are alarmed, madam! You do not like plain words about the affaires? George tells me that although he is long ago of age, he has as yet received no portion of his father's estates.”

”Lisa! You do not understand! Mother, I did not complain. You have always given me my share of the income from the property. I have no doubt it was a fair share--as much as if my father had left me my portion, according to custom.”

”Yes, it was a fair share,” said Frances.

”Ah! you smile, madam!” interrupted Lisa. ”I am told it is a vast property, a grand chateau--many securities! M. Waldeaux pere made a will, on dit, incredibly foolish, with no mention of his son. But now that this son comes to marry, to become the head of the house, if you were a French mother, if you were just, you would---- You appear to be amused, madam?”

For Mrs. Waldeaux was laughing. She could not speak for a moment. The tears stood in her eyes.

”The matter has somewhat of droll to you?”

”It has its humorous side,” said Frances. ”I quite understand, George, that you will need more money to support a wife. I will double your allowance. It shall be paid quarterly.”

”You would prefer to do that?” hesitated George. ”Rather than to make over a son's share of the property to me absolutely? Some of the landed estate or securities? I have probably a shrewder business talent than yours, and if I had control could make my property more profitable.”

”I should prefer to pay your income as before--yes,” said Frances quietly.

”Well, as you choose. It is yours to give, of course.” George coughed and shuffled to conquer his disappointment. Then he said, ”Have it your own way.” He put his hand affectionately on her shoulder. ”And when you have had your little outing and go home to Weir, you will be glad to have us come to you, for a visit--won't you, mother? You haven't said so.”

”Why should I say so? It is your home, George, yours and your wife's.”

She caught his hand and held it to her lips.

But Lisa had not so easily conquered her disappointment. This woman was coolly robbing George of his rights and was going instead to kill for him a miserable little fatted calf! Bah! This woman, who had maligned her dead mother!

She should have her punishment now. In one blow, straight from the shoulder.

”But you should know, madam,” she said gently, ”who it is your son has married before you take her home. I a.s.sure you that you can present me to the society in Weir with pride. I have royal blood----” ”Lisa!”

George caught her arm. ”It is not necessary. You forget----”