Her ladyship swallowed hard. From red that she had been, she was now ashen under her rouge. “And, is this wanton baggage to keep mine? Is she to disgrace a household that has grown too nice to contain your son?”
“My lord! Oh, my lord, give me leave to go,” Hortensia entreated.
“Ay, go,” sneered her ladyship. “Go! You had best go--back to him. What for did ye leave him? Did ye dream there could be aught to return to?”
Hortensia turned to her guardian again appealingly. But her ladyship bore down upon her, incensed by this ignoring; she caught the girl's wrist in her claw-like hand. “Answer me, you drab! What for did you return? What is to be done with you now that y' are soiled goods? Where shall we find a husband for you?”
“I do not want a husband, madam,” answered Hortensia.
“Will ye lead apes in hell, then? Bah! 'Tis not what ye want, my fine madam; 'tis what we can get you; and where shall we find you a husband now?”
Her eye fell upon Mr. Caryll, standing by one of the windows, a look of profound disgust overplaying the usually immobile face. “Perhaps the gentleman from France--the gentleman who saved you,” she sneered, “will propose to take the office.”
“With all my heart, ma'am,” Mr. Caryll startled them and himself by answering. Then, perceiving that he had spoken too much upon impulse--given utterance to what was passing in his mind--“I but mention it to show your ladyship how mistaken are your conclusions,” he added.
The countess loosed her hold of Hortensia's wrist in her amazement, and looked the gentleman from France up and down in a mighty scornful manner. “Codso!” she swore, “I may take it, then, that your saving her--as ye call it--was no accident.”
“Indeed it was, ma'am--and a most fortunate accident for your son.”
“It saved him from hanging, ma'am,” Mr. Caryll informed her, and gave her something other than the baiting of Hortensia to occupy her mind.
“Hang?” she gasped. “Are you speaking of Lord Rotherby?”
“Ay, of Lord Rotherby--and not a word more than is true,” put in the earl. “Do you know--but you do not--the extent of your precious son's villainy? At Maidstone, where I overtook them--at the Adam and Eve--he had a make-believe parson, and he was luring this poor child into a mock-marriage.”