“Make good my case!” Sir Robert ejaculated.
“And when you have made it good, it will still be for her to choose between us,” Vaughan continued with determination. “You, who have never played a father’s part, who have never guided or guarded, fostered or cherished her—do not think, sir, that you can in a moment arrogate to yourself a father’s authority.”
Sir Robert gasped. But the next moment he took up the glove so boldly flung down. He pointed to the door, and with less courtesy than the occasion demanded—but he was sore pressed by his anger, “Leave the room, girl,” he said.
“Go!” cried the baronet, stung by the use of her name. “Stay!” said Vaughan.
Infinitely distressed, infinitely distracted by this appeal from the one, from the other, from this side, from that, she turned her swimming eyes on her lover. “Oh, what,” she cried, “what am I to do?”
He did not speak, but he looked at her, not doubting what she would do, nor conceiving it possible that she could prefer to him, her lover, whose sweet professions were still honey in her ears, whose arm was still warm from the pressure of her form—that she could prefer to him, a father who was no more than the shadow of a name.
But he did not know Mary yet, either in her strength or her weakness. Nor did he consider that her father was already more than a name to her. She hung a moment undecided and wretched, drooping as the white rose that hangs its head in the first shower. Then she turned to the elder man, and throwing her arms about his neck hung in tears on his breast. “You will be good to him, sir,” she whispered passionately. “Oh, forgive him! Forgive him, sir!”
Sir Robert smoothed her hair with a caressing hand, and with pinched lips and bright eyes looked at his adversary over her head. “I would forgive him,” he said, “I could forgive him—all but this! All but this, my dear! I could forgive him had he not tricked you and deceived you, cozened you and flattered you—into this! Into the belief that he loves you, while he loves only your inheritance! Or that part,” he added bitterly, “of which he has not already robbed you!”
“Sir Robert,” Vaughan said, “you have stooped very low. But it will not avail you.”
“It has availed me so far,” the baronet retorted. With confidence he was regaining also command of himself.