'Whatever blame there is attaches solely to the mother.'

'Humph! With all her good looks, I never quite liked the woman,'

e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dr. Ross _sotto voce_. Nevertheless, he had always been extremely pleasant with her; but perhaps a man finds it difficult to be otherwise with a pretty woman.

'I have unfortunately found out--but perhaps I ought to say fortunately for us--that Mrs. Blake is not a widow: her husband is living.'

'Good heavens!'

'Neither is her name Blake; she changed it at the time she discarded her husband. I am afraid you must prepare yourself for a shock, Dr. Ross, for the whole thing is distinctly reprehensible.'

'And you mean to tell me,' returned the Doctor, with an anxious blackness gathering on his brow, 'that Cyril--that my future son-in-law is cognisant of this fact?'

'No, no!' replied Michael eagerly; 'you are doing him injustice. Blake is as ignorant of the thing as you are yourself; he has no more to do with it than you or I. Did I not tell you that the sole blame rests with his mother?'

Then the Doctor, in spite of his Christianity, p.r.o.nounced a malediction against the Blake womankind.

'She is just the sort to get into mischief,' he continued; 'there is a dangerous look in her eyes. Go on, Michael; don't keep me in suspense.

There is something disgraceful behind all this. What reason has any woman to allege for giving up her husband?'

'Her excuse is that he brought shame and dishonour on her and on his children, and that she would have nothing more to do with him. He had committed a forgery, and had been condemned to penal servitude for seven years.'

Then the Doctor said 'Good heavens!' again. At certain moments of existence it is not possible to be original--when the roof is falling on one's head, for example, or a deadly avalanche is threatening. But Michael needed no answer; he only wished to finish his story as quickly as possible.

'You know Audrey's friend, Thomas...o...b..ien?'

'To be sure I do. He is a retired corn-chandler. I went to his shop once, in Peterborough.'

'And you have probably heard of his brother Mat?'

Then Dr. Ross gazed at him with a face of despair. His misfortunes were acc.u.mulating; he had a sense of nightmare and oppression. Surely this hideous thing could not be true! no such disgrace could threaten him and his! If an earthquake had opened in the Woodcote grounds, he could not have looked more horrified.

'Do you mean to tell me, Mike, that this Mat O'Brien is Cyril's father?'

Then Michael gave him a detailed and carefully-worded account of his interview with Mrs. Blake.

'Then it is true--quite true?' in a hopeless tone.

'There cannot be a doubt of it; I had it from her own lips. To-morrow I must see O'Brien himself, and hear his side. I cannot help saying that I am sorry for the woman, in spite of her falseness; she is utterly crushed with her misery.' But it may be doubted if Dr. Ross heard this: he was occupied with his own reflections.

'This will break Audrey's heart; she is devoted to the fellow.'

'Oh, I hope not; she has more strength than other girls.'

'Of course I cannot allow this affair to go on: I must see Blake, and tell him so at once.'

'There is no hurry, is there? I think you should let me speak to O'Brien first.'

'Well, if you wish it; but I confess I do not see the necessity.'

'And I hope you will be gentle with Blake: remember that not a vestige of blame attaches to him; it is simply his misfortune that he is the son of such parents. I expect he will be utterly broken-hearted.'

Then Dr. Ross gave vent to an impatient groan. No man had a softer heart than he, and he had liked Cyril from the first.

'I must think of my child, Mike,' he said at last.

'Yes, you must think of her; but you must be merciful to him, too. Think what he will suffer when he knows this; and he is as innocent as a babe! I suppose'--and then he hesitated, and looked at his cousin--'that there will be no way of hushing up things, and letting the engagement go on?'

Then the Doctor nearly sprang out of his chair.

'Are you out of your senses, Michael, to put such a question to me? Is it likely that any man in my position would allow his family to be allied to a convicted criminal? Would any amount of hushing up render such an alliance tolerable?'

'Well, I suppose not.'

'I have never cared much for conventionality, or for the mere show of things; but I suppose that, in some sense, the good opinion of my fellow-men is necessary for my comfort. When Blake came to me, and told me that he had not a shilling in the world beside his earnings as my cla.s.sical master, I did not let his poverty stand in the way. I told him that, as my girl's happiness was involved, I could not find it in my heart to withhold my consent.

'"You are certainly not in the position in which I should wish to see my son-in-law," I said to him; "but I will speak to Charrington, and see what is to be done."

'Well, I have spoken, and Charrington only promised the other day that he would push him on. I have no doubt at all that, with my interest and standing in the place, Cyril would have had a house in time, and Audrey's position would have been equal to her sister's.'

'And you mean to say that all this is at an end?'

'Of course it is at an end!' almost shouted the Doctor; 'and Cyril's career is practically at an end, too. Do you suppose any public school in England would employ a master whose relatives are so disreputable that he is obliged to make use of an a.s.sumed name? When I refuse to allow him to marry my daughter, I must give him his _conge_ at the same time.'

'Then in that case he is a ruined man;' and to this Dr. Ross gave a sorrowful a.s.sent.

'How am I to help myself or him, Mike? I will do all in my power to soften the weight of this blow to him; but when all is at an end between him and Audrey, how am I to keep him in Rutherford? The thing would he impossible. He would not wish it himself. He is very proud and high-spirited by nature, and such a position would be intolerable to him. No, he must go; but if money will help him, he may command me to any reasonable amount.'

'He will not take your money;' and then he added 'Poor beggar!' under his breath.

'You will stand by me, Mike?'

'Most certainly I will; but I mean to befriend Blake, too, as far as he will let me.'

'I should not think he would refuse your sympathy; a man needs someone at such a time. But when I spoke I was thinking of my girl. You have great influence with her, Michael; sometimes I think no brother's influence could be stronger. How would it be if she were to hear the news first from you?'

Then Michael recoiled as though someone had struck him in the face.

'Impossible! I could not tell her. I would rather be shot!' he returned vehemently.

'Well, it is not a pleasant business, and I suppose I must do it myself; only the idea crossed my mind that perhaps it might come better from you. I shall not be able to refrain from indignation; I am apt to get a little warm sometimes.'

But Michael firmly negatived this notion.

'It will go hard with her, whoever tells it,' he said decidedly.

'Nothing can soften such a blow, and it is far better for her to hear it from her father. You see,' he continued rather sadly, 'it will be a fair division, for I have to break it to poor Blake; and I shall have tough work with him, for he worships the ground she walks on.'

'Ay, poor fellow! I know he does. What a cruel affair it is, Mike! That woman's deceit will go far to spoil two lives.'