"Whatever will Master Noel say to such goings on?"

Master Noel said nothing, because he was too astonished to speak, and Agnes, seeing his surprise, and guessing its cause, waited, somewhat defiantly, for him to make an observation. She was dressed in a gray silk frock, with a hat and gloves, and shoes to match, and drew off a fur-lined cloak of maroon-colored velvet, when she entered the room. Her face was somewhat pale and her eyes looked unnaturally large, but she had a resolute expression about her mouth, which showed that she had made up her mind. Lambert, swift, from long a.s.sociation, to read her moods, wondered what conclusion she had arrived at, and proceeded to inquire.

"Whatever is the meaning of this?" he demanded, considerably startled.

"This dress?"

"Of course. Where is your widow's cap and--"

"In the fire, and there they can remain until they are burned to ashes."

Lambert stared harder than ever. "What does it mean?" he asked again.

"It means," said Agnes, replying very directly, "that the victim is no longer decked out for the sacrifice. It means, that as Hubert insulted me by his will, I no longer intend to consider his memory."

"But, Agnes, you respected him. You always said that you did?"

"Quite so, until his will was read. Then when I found that his mean jealousy--which was entirely unreasonable--had arranged to rob me of my income by preventing my marriage with you, I ceased to have any regard for him. Hubert knew that I loved you, and was content to take me on those terms so long as I was loyal to him. I _was_ loyal, and did what I could to show him grat.i.tude for the way in which he helped the family.

Now his will has broken the bargain I respect him no longer, and for that reason I refuse to pose any longer as a grieving widow."

"I wonder, with these thoughts, that you posed at all," said Lambert gloomily, and pushed forward a chair.

"I could not make up my mind until lately what to do," explained Agnes, sitting down gracefully, "and while I accepted his money it appeared to me that I ought to show his memory the outward respect of c.r.a.pe and all the rest of it. Now," she leaned forward and spoke meaningly, "I am resolved to surrender the money. That breaks the link between us. The will! the will!" she tapped an impatient foot on the carpet. "How could you expect any woman to put up with such an insult?"

Lambert dropped on the sofa and looked at her hard. "What's up?" he asked anxiously. "I never saw you like this before."

"I was not free when you last saw me," she replied dryly.

"Oh, yes; you were a widow."

"I mean free, in my own mind, to marry you. I am now. I don't intend to consider the family or society, or Mr. Silver's threats, or anything else. I have shaken off my fetters; I have discarded my ring." She violently pulled off her glove to show that the circle of gold was absent. "I am free, and I thank G.o.d that I am free."

"Agnes! Agnes! I can't reduce you to poverty by marrying you. It would not be honorable of me."

"And would it be honorable on my part for me to keep the money of a man I despise because his will insults me?" she retorted.

"We argued all this before."

"Yes, we did, and concluded to wait until we saw how the estates could be freed before we came to any conclusion."

"And do you see now how the estates can be freed without using Pine's money, Agnes?" asked Lambert anxiously.

"No. Things are ever so much worse than I thought. Garvington can hold out for another year, but at the end of twelve months the estates will be sold up by the person whose name is in the sealed envelope, and he will be reduced to some hundreds a year. The Lamberts!" she waved her arm dramatically, "are ruined, my dear; entirely ruined!"

"And for the simple reason that you wish us to place love before duty."

Agnes leaned forward and took his hand firmly. "Noel, you love me?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you love the family name better?"

"In one way I wish to save it, in another I am willing to let it go hang."

"Yes. Those were my views until three or four days ago."

"And what caused you to change your mind, dear?"

"A visit which Clara Greeby paid me."

"Oh." Lambert sat up very straight. "She hasn't been making mischief, has she?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, she has done both of us a great service."

Lambert nodded thankfully. He felt doubtful as to whether Miss Greeby really had meant to renounce her absurd pa.s.sion for himself, and it was a relief to find that she had been acting honestly. "Has she then learned who killed Pine?" he asked cautiously.

Lady Agnes suddenly rose and began to pace the room, twisting her gloves and trying to control herself. Usually she was so composed that Lambert wondered at this restlessness. He wondered still more when she burst into violent tears, and therefore hastened to draw her back to the chair. When she was seated he knelt beside her and pa.s.sed his arm round her neck, as distressed as she was. It was so unlike Agnes to break down in this way, and more unlike her to sob brokenly. "Oh, I'm afraid--I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what, darling?"

"I'm afraid to learn who killed my husband. He might have done so, and yet he only fired the first shot--"

"Agnes," Lambert rose up suddenly, "are you talking of Garvington?"

"Yes." She leaned back and dried her tears. "In spite of what he says, I am afraid he may be guilty."

Lambert's heart seemed to stand still. "You talk rubbish!" he cried angrily.

"I wish it was. Oh, how I wish it was rubbish! But I can't be sure. Of course, he may have meant what he says--"

"What does he say? Tell me everything. Oh, heavens!" Lambert clutched his smooth hair. "What does it all mean?"

"Ruin to the Lambert family. I told you so."

"You have only told me sc.r.a.ps so far. I don't understand how you can arrive at the conclusion that Garvington is guilty. Agnes, don't go on crying in so unnecessary a way. If things have to be faced, surely we are strong enough to face them. Don't let our emotions make fools of us.

Stop it! Stop it!" he said sharply and stamping. "Dry your eyes and explain matters."

"I--I can't help my feelings," faltered Agnes, beginning to respond to the spur, and becoming calmer.

"Yes, you can. I don't offer you brandy or smelling salts, or anything of the sort, because I know you to be a woman with a firm mind. Exert your will, and compel your nerves to be calm. This exhibition is too cheap."

"Oh," cried Agnes indignantly, and this feeling was the one Lambert wished to arouse, "how can you talk so?"

"Because I love you and respect you," he retorted.

She knew that he meant what he said, and that her firmness of mind and self-control had always appealed to him, therefore she made a great effort and subdued her unruly nerves. Lambert gave her no a.s.sistance, and merely walked up and down the room while waiting for her to recover.

It was not easy for her to be herself immediately, as she really was shaken, and privately considered that he expected too much. But pride came to her aid, and she gradually became more composed. Meanwhile Lambert pulled up the blind to display the ugly room in all its deformity, and the sight--as he guessed it would--extorted an exclamation from her.

"Oh, how can you live in this horrid place?" she asked irrelevantly.