"I know how it will end," she answered; "and the sooner it ends the better. You will find that I am quite as determined as you are. A man who loves me as _he_ loves me, is a man whom I refuse to deceive."
"Let's have it out plainly," Mrs. Presty insisted. "He believes your first marriage has been dissolved by death. Do you mean to tell him that it has been dissolved by Divorce?"
"I do."
"What right has he to know it?"
"A right that is not to be denied. A wife must have no secrets from her husband."
Mrs. Presty hit back smartly.
"You're not his wife yet. Wait till you are married."
"Never! Who but a wretch would marry an honest man under false pretenses?"
"I deny the false pretenses! You talk as if you were an impostor.
Are you, or are you not, the accomplished lady who has charmed him? Are you, or are you not, the beautiful woman whom he loves?
There isn't a stain on your reputation. In every respect you are the wife he wants and the wife who is worthy of him. And you are cruel enough to disturb the poor man about a matter that doesn't concern him! you are fool enough to raise doubts of you in his mind, and give him a reproach to cast in your teeth the first time you do anything that happens to offend him! Any woman--I don't care who she may be--might envy the home that's waiting for you and your child, if you're wise enough to hold your tongue.
Upon my word, Catherine, I am ashamed of you. Have you no principles?"
She really meant it! The purely selfish considerations which she urged on her daughter were so many undeniable virtues in Mrs.
Presty's estimation. She took the highest moral ground, and stood up and crowed on it, with a pride in her own principles which the Primate of all England might have envied.
But Catherine's rare resolution held as firm as ever. She got a little nearer to the door. "Good-night, mamma," was the only reply she made.
"Is that all you have to say to me?"
"I am tired, and I must rest. Please let me go."
Mrs. Presty threw open the door with a bang.
"You refuse to take my advice?" she said. "Oh, very well, have your own way! You are sure to prosper in the end. These are the days of exhibitions and gold medals. If there is ever an exhibition of idiots at large, I know who might win the prize."
Catherine was accustomed to preserve her respect for her mother under difficulties; but this was far more than her sense of filial duty could successfully endure.
"I only wish I had never taken your advice," she answered. "Many a miserable moment would have been spared me, if I had always done what I am doing now. You have been the evil genius of my life since Miss Westerfield first came into our house."
She passed through the open doorway--stopped--and came back again. "I didn't mean to offend you, mamma--but you do say such irritating things. Good-night."
Not a word of reply acknowledged that kindly-meant apology. Mrs.
Presty--vivacious Mrs. Presty of the indomitable spirit and the ready tongue--was petrified. She, the guardian angel of the family, whose experience, devotion, and sound sense had steered Catherine through difficulties and dangers which must have otherwise ended in utter domestic shipwreck--she, the model mother--had been stigmatized as the evil genius of her daughter's life by no less a person than that daughter herself! What was to be said? What was to be done? What terrible and unexampled course of action should be taken after such an insult as this? Mrs.
Presty stood helpless in the middle of the room, and asked herself these questions, and waited and wondered and found no answer.
An interval passed. There was a knock at the door. A waiter appeared. He said: "A gentleman to see Mrs. Norman."
The gentleman entered the room and revealed himself.
Herbert Linley!