Conceal yourself in that high chair. See, I turn it; so that they
cannot see you. At least you will find I have but told you the truth."
"No!" cried Mabel, violently. "I will not spy upon my husband at the
dictation of his treacherous friend."
Sir Charles vanished. He was no sooner gone than Mrs. Vane crouched,
trembling, and writhing with jealousy, in the large, high-backed chair.
She heard her husband and the _soi-disant_ Lady Betty Modish enter.
During their absence, Mrs. Woffington had doubtless been playing her
cards with art; for it appeared that a reconciliation was now taking
place. The lady, however, was still cool and distant. It was poor Mabel's
fate to hear these words: "You must permit me to go alone, Mr. Vane. I
insist upon leaving this house alone."
On this, he whispered to her.
She answered: "You are not justified."
"I can explain all," was his reply. "I am ready to renounce credit,
character, all the world for you."
They passed out of the room before the unhappy listener could recover the
numbing influence of these deadly words.
But the next moment she started wildly up, and cried as one drowning
cries vaguely for help: "Ernest! oh, no--no! you cannot use me so!
Ernest--husband! Oh, mother! mother!"
She rose, and would have made for the door, but nature had been too
cruelly tried. At the first step she could no longer see anything; and
the next moment, swooning dead away, she fell back insensible, with her
head and shoulders resting on the chair.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173