BUT although Augusta had maintained an attitude of stiff
defiance, she was by no means pleased with herself. She rang for her
maid, dressed for the street, and a few moments later was on her way
to Murray Hill. When she reached the Creighton’s she went directly
up to Mabel’s room, and, after a hasty tap, entered. Mabel was lying
full-length on the divan among her rainbow pillows, a silver bottle of
smelling-salts at her nose.
She rose at once.
“I have a headache,” she said coldly. “Sit down.”
“Mabel!” said Augusta precipitately, “should you think me dishonourable
if I married the Duke of Bosworth?”
“If I did would it make any difference?”
“No; but I’d rather you didn’t.”
Mabel turned her head away and looked into the logs burning on the
hearth.
“Until you yourself told me that it was over,” pursued Augusta, “I gave
him no sort of encouragement; but as you cannot marry him yourself, I
don’t see why I shouldn’t.”
“No; I suppose there is no reason why you shouldn’t. Only it is
something I couldn’t do myself.”
“You don’t know whether you could or not. Nobody knows what abstract
sentiments he’ll sacrifice when he wants a thing badly. If somebody
suddenly died and left you a fortune, wouldn’t you take him from me if
you could?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Well, that would be much more dishonourable than anything I have
done.”
“I suppose so. I don’t care. I don’t call that kind of thing honour. I
wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
“I fail to see any distinction, Mabel. You never had any reasoning
faculty. I am much more suited to the Duke, anyhow, for he is really
clever.”
“It isn’t cleverness he’s after.”
“Oh, of course he must have money. One is used to that. It’s like
knowing that lots of people come to your house because you give good
dinners; but you don’t like them any the less; in fact, don’t think
about it. We have to take the world as we find it. If you regard the
Duke as a fortune-hunter I wonder you can still love him.”
Mabel turned her head and regarded Miss Forbes with a haughty stare.
“I do not love him,” she said, “I despise him too thoroughly. It is my
pride only that is irritated. Don’t let there be any doubt on that
point.”
“Well, I am delighted--relieved! It has worried me, made me genuinely
unhappy; it has indeed, Mabel dear. I will admit that I had misgivings,
that I was not altogether satisfied with myself; but now I can be as
happy as ever again. And you don’t think it dishonourable? Please say
that.”
“No, I don’t think it dishonourable; (for we are no longer friends),”
she added to herself; but she was too generous to say it aloud.
Augusta went away a few minutes later, and Mabel, who was not going out
that evening, flung herself on the divan, and sobbed into her cushions.