I know that, still if we can save him, we should."
"I will try any honorable means you choose to suggest," she replied;
"but not even to save my son from death could I consent to write or
publish a lie."
"Of course you know best, Lady Carruthers," said the lawyer, with a
shrug of the shoulders. "Words are but words, and very few of them might
have saved your son from public shame."
"I have never yet believed in the success of a lie," said her ladyship.
"Pardon me," said Mr. Forster, grimly, "then you have forgotten the
pages of history. I came down purposely to persuade your ladyship to do
this. I am well aware that at first sight it seems contrary to all one's
notions of truth and honor, but there is so much at stake. My denial,
couched in strong terms, will appear tomorrow. If it were succeeded by a
letter from your ladyship, written in the same strain, people would
laugh and believe that it was a great mistake. I had so many inquiries
this morning before I left London, and I gave the same answer to all,
that it was the sorry jest of an evil-disposed person. If your ladyship
would but second my efforts, all would be well; we could get him through
in safety."
But Lady Carruthers had risen from her seat and stood with her proud
figure drawn to its utmost height.
"I will do anything you propose, save tell a lie. If my son can be
rescued by no other means, he must bear his punishment."
"Then my journey is in vain," said Mr. Forster. "I may return to London
at once."
"No," said Lady Carruthers; "I cannot allow you to return after that
long journey--you must stay and dine with us. Pardon me," she said,
seeing that he looked hurt and uncomfortable. "I have spoken strongly,
but truth has always been far dearer to me than life. I do full justice
to your motives. I appreciate your kindness, but in this manner I cannot
help you. Stay and take dinner with us; then we can consult as to what
is best to be done."
"May I give your ladyship one piece of advice?" said the lawyer. "Have
the papers--yesterday's and today's--destroyed, so that no rumor of
anything amiss can reach your servants; also say nothing of it--it may
possibly die away, as some rumors do. Your visitors and friends will not
broach such a subject to you, I am sure."
"I shall not mention it," she replied; "although Marion will be sure to
suspect something wrong." At that moment the last dressing-bell rang.
"You will join us in a few minutes,"
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