f you please. If you will return
at the same hour to-morrow she shall speak with you--alone. And then
she must do as she pleases."

"Anna, I will come again to-morrow," said the tailor. But Lady Anna
did not answer him. She did not speak, but stayed looking at him till
he was gone.

"To-morrow shall end it all. I can stand this no longer. I have
prayed to you,--a mother to her daughter; I have prayed to you for
mercy, and you will show me none. I have knelt to you."

"Mamma!"

"I will kneel again if it may avail." And the Countess did kneel.
"Will you not spare me?"

"Get up, mamma; get up. What am I doing,--what have I done that you
should speak to me like this?"

"I ask you from my very soul,--lest I commit some terrible crime. I
have sworn that I would not see this marriage,--and I will not see
it."

"If he will consent I will delay it," said the girl trembling.

"Must I beg to him then? Must I kneel to him? Must I ask him to save
me from the wrath to come? No, my child, I will not do that. If it
must come, let it come. When you were a little thing at my knees, the
gentlest babe that ever mother kissed, I did not think that you would
live to be so hard to me. You have your mother's brow, my child, but
you have your father's heart."

"I will ask him to delay it," said Anna.

"No;--if it be to come to that I will have no dealings with you.
What; that he,--he who has come between me and all my peace, he who
with his pretended friendship has robbed me of my all, that he is to
be asked to grant me a few weeks' delay before this pollution comes
upon me,--during which the whole world will know that Lady Anna Lovel
is to be the tailor's wife! Leave me. When he comes to-morrow, you
shall be sent for;--but I will see him first. Leave me, now. I would
be alone."

Lady Anna made an attempt to take her mother's hand, but the Countess
repulsed her rudely. "Oh, mamma!"

"We must be bitter enemies or loving friends, my child. As it is we
are bitter enemies; yes, the bitterest. Leave me now. There is no
room for further words between us." Then Lady Anna slunk up to her
own room.

CHAPTER XLIII.

DANIEL THWAITE COMES AGAIN.

The Countess Lovel had prepared herself on that morning for the doing
of a deed, but her heart had failed her. How she might have carried
herself through it had not her daughter came down to them,--how far
she might have been able to persevere, cannot be said now. But it
was certain