e to him. But
a word from himself will do it. One look will be sufficient. Let him
give me to understand, in any way, that his love for me is injurious
to him--that he has learnt to think so--and then I will renounce my
part in this engagement as quickly as you could wish it."
There was much in this promise, but still not so much as Lady
Arabella wished to get. Mary, she knew, was obstinate, but yet
reasonable; Frank, she thought, was both obstinate and unreasonable.
It might be possible to work on Mary's reason, but quite impossible
to touch Frank's irrationality. So she persevered--foolishly.
"Miss Thorne--that, is, Mary, for I still wish to be thought your
friend--"
"I will tell you the truth, Lady Arabella: for some considerable time
past I have not thought you so."
"Then you have wronged me. But I will go on with what I was saying.
You quite acknowledge that this is a foolish affair?"
"I acknowledge no such thing."
"Something very much like it. You have not a word in its defence."
"Not to you: I do not choose to be put on my defence by you."
"I don't know who has more right; however, you promise that if Frank
wishes it, you will release him from his engagement."
"Release him! It is for him to release me, that is, if he wishes it."
"Very well; at any rate, you give him permission to do so. But will
it not be more honourable for you to begin?"
"No; I think not."
"Ah, but it would. If he, in his position, should be the first to
speak, the first to suggest that this affair between you is a foolish
one, what would people say?"
"They would say the truth."
"And what would you yourself say?"
"Nothing."
"What would he think of himself?"
"Ah, that I do not know. It is according as that may be, that he will
or will not act at your bidding."
"Exactly; and because you know him to be high-minded, because you
think that he, having so much to give, will not break his word to
you--to you who have nothing to give in return--it is, therefore,
that you say that the first step must be taken by him. Is that
noble?"
Then Mary rose from her seat, for it was no longer possible for her
to speak what it was in her to say, sitting there leisurely on her
sofa. Lady Arabella's worship of money had not hitherto been so
brought forward in the conversation as to give her unpardonable
offence; but now she felt that she could no longer restrain her
indignation. "To you who have nothing to give in return!"
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