"What!" Shawe flushed. "That little reptile, who--"
"I know a great deal about him," said Audrey, cutting him short, "and I do not wish to hear any more. I shall leave this house rather than marry him, and rather than see this Pearl woman occupying my mother's place."
"Come to me, darling," said Ralph, holding out his arms. "Let us get married at once and defy your father."
"Oh, what does that matter? I want you and not your money."
"Dear"--she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked deeply into his keen grey eyes, now filled with the love-light--"I am too fond of you to allow you to ruin yourself for my sake."
"Ruin myself"--his arms slipped round her waist, and he placed his cheek against hers--"how could you do that, you silly darling?"
"Very easily," she replied, in a tired voice; for all she had gone through was wearing her out. "You have just enough money to get along with, as a bachelor. But what is enough for one is not enough for two, in spite of the proverb. If I married you in haste we should both repent at leisure. Not only would we be poor, but my father, being thwarted, would do his best to hinder you."
"He could not do that," declared Shawe, who believed that he was capable of defying the world, much less Sir Joseph.
"Oh, yes, he could, and he would. He would use his money and his influence to prevent any solicitor giving you a brief. He would turn people against you, and would give you a bad name. I know my father's hard nature, and his pertinacious way of following up things. My poor mother told me how he had ruined and disgraced several people who had crossed his path."
Ralph pushed her slightly away from him, and taking her hands looked into her eyes. "And do you think that I am ready to give you up because your father would act in this way?" he demanded. "I am not afraid of Sir Joseph, or of any man. Two people can play at every game, and if your father tries to crush me, he will find that I am not a man to be cast out of his path. If he has money, I have brains, and I am quite willing to pit my intellect against his wealth. Hang Sir Joseph, and a dozen like him; I beg your pardon, dear, for, after all, he is your father."
"A father in name only," said Audrey, admiring her lover's indignation, which was righteous and masterful in her eyes. "You know what I think of him, Ralph. I wish I had a better opinion of his nature, but my experience and my mother's experience--what she has told me--show that my father is a hard man with a strong will. He does not care what anyone suffers so long as he gets his way. The mere fact that he has already decided to marry again--and marry a music-hall artist--shows how callous he is. It's like Hamlet's mother," ended Audrey, bitterly, "with the funeral baked meats not yet cold, as in the play."