CHAPTER V
FATHER AND SON
None of the three spoke for a moment.
Then Mary drew her breath sharply as she saw Ralph's face, for it hadhardened during that moment into a kind of blind obstinacy which she hadonly seen once or twice in her life before.
As he stood there he seemed to stiffen into resistance. His eyelidsdrooped, and little lines showed themselves suddenly at either side ofhis thin mouth. His father saw it too, for the hand that he had liftedentreatingly sank again, and his voice was tremulous as he spoke.
"Ralph--Ralph, my son!" he said.
Still the man said nothing; but stood frozen, his face half-turned tothe windows.
"Ralph, my son," said the other again, "you know why we have come."
"You have come to hinder my business."
His voice was thin and metallic, as rigid as steel.
"We have come to hinder a great sin against God," said Sir James.
Ralph opened his eyes wide with a sort of fury, and thrust his chin out.
"She should pack a thousand times more now than before," he said.
The father's face too deepened into strength now, and he drew himselfup.
"Do you know what you are doing?" he said.
"I do, sir."
There was an extraordinary insolence in his voice, and Mary took a stepforward.
"Oh! Ralph," she said, "at least do it like a gentleman!"
Ralph turned on her sharply, and the obstinacy vanished in anger.
"I will not be pushed like this," he snarled. "What right is it of yoursto come between me and my work?"
Sir James made a quick imperious gesture, and his air of entreaty fellfrom him like a cloak.
"Sit down, sir," he said, and his voice rang strongly. "We have a rightin Margaret's affairs. We will say what we wish."
Mary glanced at him: she had never seen her father like this before ashe stood in three quarter profile, rigid with decision. When she lookedat Ralph again, his face had tightened once more into obstinacy. Heanswered Sir James with a kind of silky deference.
"Of course, I will sit down, sir, and you shall say what you will."
He went across the room and drew out a couple of chairs before the coldhearth where the white ashes and logs of last night's fire still rested.Sir James sat down with his back to the window so that Mary could notsee his face, and Ralph stood by the other chair a moment, facing her.
"Sit down, Mary," he said. "Wait, I will have candles."
He stepped back to the door and called to the portress, and thenreturned, and seated himself deliberately, setting his cane in thecorner beside him.
None of the three spoke again until the nun had come in with a couple ofcandles that she set in the stands and lighted; then she went outwithout glancing at anyone. Mary was sitting in the window seat, so thecurtains remained undrawn, and there was a mystical compound of twilightand candle-light in the room.
She had a flash of metaphor, and saw in it the meeting of the old andnew religions; the type of these two men, of whom the light of one wasfading, and the other waxing. The candlelight fell full on Ralph's facethat stood out against the whitewashed wall behind.
Then she listened and watched with an intent interest.
* * * * *
"It is this," said Sir James, "we heard you were here--"
Ralph smiled with one side of his mouth, so that his father could seeit.
"I do not wish to do anything I should not," went on the old man, "or tomeddle in his Grace's matters--"
"And you wish me not to meddle either, sir," put in Ralph.
"Yes," said his father. "I am very willing to receive you and your wifeat home; to make any suitable provision; to give you half the house ifyou wish for it; if you will only give up this accursed work."
He was speaking with a tranquil deliberation; all the emotion andpassion seemed to have left his voice; but Mary, from behind, could seehis right hand clenched like a vice upon the knob of his chair-arm. Itseemed to her as if the two men had suddenly frozen intoself-repression. Their air was one of two acquaintances talking, not offather and son.
"And if not, sir?" asked Ralph with the same courtesy.
"Wait," said his father, and he lifted his hand a moment and dropped itagain. He was speaking in short, sharp sentences. "I know that you havegreat things before you, and that I am asking much from you. I do notwish you to think that I am ignorant of that. If nothing else will do Iam willing to give up the house altogether to you and your wife. I donot know about your mother."
Mary drew her breath hard. The words were like an explosion in her soul,and opened up unsuspected gulfs. Things must be desperate if her fathercould speak like that. He had not hinted a word of this during thatsilent strenuous ride they had had together when he had called for hersuddenly at Great Keynes earlier in the afternoon. She saw Ralph give aquick stare at his father, and drop his eyes again.
"You are very generous, sir," he said almost immediately, "but I do notask for a bribe."
"You--you are unlike your master in that, then," said Sir James by anirresistible impulse.
Ralph's face stiffened yet more.
"Then that is all, sir?" he asked.
"I beg your pardon for saying that," added his father courteously. "Itshould not have been said. It is not a bribe, however; it is an offer tocompensate for any loss you may incur."
"Have you finished, sir?"
"That is all I have to say on that point," said Sir James, "except--"
"Well, sir?"
"Except that I do not know how Mistress Atherton will take this story."
Ralph's face grew a shade paler yet. But his lips snapped together,though his eyes flinched.
"That is a threat, sir."
"That is as you please."
A little pulse beat sharply in Ralph's cheek. He was looking with akind of steady fury at his father. But Mary thought she saw indecisiontoo in his eye-lids, which were quivering almost imperceptibly.
"You have offered me a bribe and a threat, sir. Two insults. Have you athird ready?"
Mary heard a swift-drawn breath from her father, but he spoke quietly.
"I have no more to say on that point," he said.
"Then I must refuse," said Ralph instantly. "I see no reason to give upmy work. I have very hearty sympathy with it."
The old man's hand twitched uncontrollably on his chair-arm for amoment; he half lifted his hand, but he dropped it again.
"Then as to Margaret," he went on in a moment. "I understand you hadintended to dismiss her from the convent?"
Ralph bowed.
"And where do you suggest that she should go?"
"She must go home," said Ralph.
"To Overfield?"
Ralph assented.
"Then I will not receive her," said Sir James.
Mary started up.
"Nor will Mary receive her," he added, half turning towards her.
Mary Maxwell sat back at once. She thought she understood what he meantnow.
Ralph stared at his father a moment before he too understood. Then hesaw the point, and riposted deftly. He shrugged his shouldersostentatiously as if to shake off responsibility.
"Well, then, that is not my business; I shall give her a gown and fiveshillings to-morrow, with the other one."
The extraordinary brutality of the words struck Mary like a whip, butSir James met it.
"That is for you to settle then," he said. "Only you need not send herto Overfield or Great Keynes, for she will be sent back here at once."
Ralph smiled with an air of tolerant incredulity. Sir James rosebriskly.
"Come, Mary," he said, and turned his back abruptly on Ralph, "we mustfind lodgings for to-night. The good nuns will not have room."
As Mary looked at his face in the candlelight she was astonished by itsdecision; there was not the smallest hint of yielding. It was very palebut absolutely determined, and for the last ti
me in her life she noticedhow like it was to Ralph's. The line of the lips was identical, and hiseyelids drooped now like his son's.
Ralph too rose and then on a sudden she saw the resolute obstinacy fadefrom his eyes and mouth. It was as if the spirit of one man had passedinto the other.
"Father--" he said.
She expected a rush of emotion into the old man's face, but there wasnot a ripple. He paused a moment, but Ralph was silent.
"I have no more to say to you, sir. And I beg that you will not comehome again."
As they passed out into the entrance passage she turned again and sawRalph dazed and trembling at the table. Then they were out in the roadthrough the open gate and a long moan broke from her father.
"Oh! God forgive me," he said, "have I failed?"