she had read the printed
sentences, aloud. Without a word of comment she laid the letter where
she had laid the card; and, rising from her seat, stood for a moment
in stern silence, looking at Mercy. The sudden change in her which the
letter had produced--quietly as it had taken place--was terrible to
see. On the frowning brow, in the flashing eyes, on the hardened lips,
outraged love and outraged pride looked down on the lost woman, and
said, as if in words, You have roused us at last.

"If that letter means anything," she said, "it means you are about to
leave my house. There can be but one reason for your taking such a step
as that."

"It is the only atonement I can make, madam."

"I see another letter on your lap. Is it my letter?"

"Yes."

"Have you read it?"

"I have read it."

"Have you seen Horace Holmcroft?"

"Yes."

"Have you told Horace Holmcroft--"

"Oh, Lady Janet--"

"Don't interrupt me. Have you told Horace Holmcroft what my letter
positively forbade you to communicate, either to him or to any living
creature? I want no protestations and excuses. Answer me instantly, and
answer in one word--Yes, or No."

Not even that haughty language, not even those pitiless tones, could
extinguish in Mercy's heart the sacred memories of past kindness and
past love. She fell on her knees--her outstretched hands touched Lady
Janet's dress. Lady Janet sharply drew her dress away, and sternly
repeated her last words.

"Yes? or No?"

"Yes."

She had owned it at last! To this end Lady Janet had submitted to Grace
Roseberry; had offended Horace Holmcroft; had stooped, for the first
time in her life, to concealments and compromises that degraded her.
After all that she had sacrificed and suffered, there Mercy knelt at
her feet, self-convicted of violating her commands, trampling on her
feelings, deserting her house! And who was the woman who had done this?
The same woman who had perpetrated the fraud, and who had persisted in
the fraud until her benefactress had descended to become her accomplice.
Then, and then only, she had suddenly discovered that it was her sacred
duty to tell the truth!

In proud silence the great lady met the blow that had fallen on her. In
proud silence she turned her back on her adopted daughter and walked to
the door.

Mercy made her last appeal to the kind friend whom she had offended--to
the second mother whom she had loved.

"Lady Janet! Lady Janet! Don't leave me without