morsels. She drank her cup of tea, and remembering that there in that house she was still hostess, she made some slight effort to welcome her guest. 'Surely after such a day of trouble you will eat something,' she said to her friend. To Mrs. Orme it was marvellous that the woman should even be alive,—let alone that she should speak and perform the ordinary functions of her daily life. 'And now,' she said—Lady Mason said—as soon as that ceremony was over, 'now as we are so tired I think we will go up stairs. Will you light our candles for us, Lucius?' And so the candles were lit, and the two ladies went up stairs.
A second bed had been prepared in Lady Mason's room, and into this chamber they both went at once. Mrs. Orme, as soon as she had entered, turned round and held out both her hands in order that she might comfort Lady Mason by taking hers; but Lady Mason, when she had closed the door, stood for a moment with her face towards the wall, not knowing how to bear herself. It was but for a moment, and then slowly moving round, with her two hands clasped together, she sank on her knees at Mrs. Orme's feet, and hid her face in the skirt of Mrs. Orme's dress.
'My friend—my friend!' said Lady Mason.
'Yes, I am your friend—indeed I am. But, dear Lady Mason—' And she endeavoured to think of words by which she might implore her to rise and compose herself.
'How is it you can bear with such a one as I am? How is it that you do not hate me for my guilt?'
'He does not hate us when we are guilty.'
'I do not know. Sometimes I think that all will hate me,—here and hereafter—except you. Lucius will hate me, and how shall I bear that? Oh, Mrs. Orme, I wish he knew it!'
'I wish he did. He shall know it now,—to-night, if you will allow me to tell him.'
'No. It would kill me to bear his looks. I wish he knew it, and was away, so that he might never look at me again.'
'He too would forgive you if he knew it all.'
'Forgive! How can he forgive?' And as she spoke she rose again to her feet, and her old manner came upon her. 'Do you think what it is that I have done for him? I,—his mother,—for my only child? And after that, is it possible that he should forgive me?'
'You meant him no harm.'
'But I have ruined him before all the world. He is as proud as your boy; and could he bear to think that his whole life would be disgraced by his mother's crime?'
'Had I been so unfortunate he would have forgiven me.'
'We are speaking of what is impossible. It could not have been so. Your youth was different from mine.'
