induced Mary to become engaged to you; you
kept her waiting for years; you wrote constantly, pretending to love
her, deceiving her odiously; you let her waste the best part of her
life, and then, without excuse and without reason, you calmly say that
you're sick of her, and won't marry her. I think it is horrible, and
brutal, and most ungentlemanly. Even a common man wouldn't have behaved
in that way. Of course, it doesn't matter to you, but it means the ruin
of Mary's whole life. How can she get a husband now when she's wasted
her best years? You've spoilt all her chances. You've thrown a slur upon
her which people will never forget. You're a cruel, wicked man, and
however you won the Victoria Cross I don't know; I'm sure you don't
deserve it."

Mrs. Jackson stopped.

"Is that all?" asked James, quietly.

"It's quite enough."

"Quite! In that case, I think we may finish our little interview."

"Have you nothing to say?" asked Mrs. Jackson indignantly, realising
that she had not triumphed after all.

"I? Nothing."

Mrs. Jackson was perplexed, and still those disconcerting eyes were
fixed upon her; she angrily resented their polite contempt.

"Well, I think it's disgraceful!" she cried. "You must be utterly
shameless!"

"My dear lady, you asked me to listen to you, and I have. If you thought
I was going to argue, I'm afraid you were mistaken. But since you have
been very frank with me, you can hardly mind if I am equally frank with
you. I absolutely object to the way in which not only you, but all the
persons who took part in that ridiculous function the other day, talk of
my private concerns. I am a perfect stranger to you, and you have no
business to speak to me of my engagement with Miss Clibborn or the
rupture of it. Finally, I would remark that I consider your particular
interference a very gross piece of impertinence. I am sorry to have to
speak so directly, but apparently nothing but the very plainest language
can have any effect upon you."

Then Mrs. Jackson lost her temper.

"Captain Parsons, I am considerably older than you, and you have no
right to speak to me like that. You forget that I am a lady; and if I
didn't know your father and mother, I should say that you were no
gentleman. And you forget also that I come here on the part of God. You
are certainly no Christian. You've been very rude to me, indeed."

"I didn't mean to be," replied James, smiling.

"If I'd known you would be so rude to