"Mother and I have got to settle this!" He came to lean over her, looking into her face. "I advise you to be careful, mother, of what you say!" There was a dreadful pause. Then he lifted himself and said, with folded arms, slowly, still looking hard at Lady Coryston: "I am--in love--with the lady to whom you refer in that unjustifiable manner. I wish to marry her--and I am doing my best to persuade her to marry me. _Now_ you understand perhaps why I didn't wish to attack her father at this particular juncture."
Marcia threw herself upon her brother, to lead him away. Coryston, meanwhile, with lifted brows and the prominent greenish eyes beneath them starting out of his head, never ceased to observe his mother. There was trouble--and a sudden softness--in his look.
Silence reigned, for a few painful moments. The eyes of the two combatants were on each other. The change in Lady Coryston's aspect was something quite different from what is ordinarily described as "turning pale." It represented rather the instinctive and immediate rally of the whole human personality in the presence of danger more deadly than any it has yet encountered. It was the gray rally of strength, not the pallor of fear. She laughed--as she passed her handkerchief over her lips--so Marcia thought afterward--to hide their trembling.
"I thank you for your frankness, Arthur. You will hardly expect me to wish you success in such a love affair, or to further your suit. But your confession--your astonishing confession--does at least supply some reason for your extraordinary behavior. For the present--_for the present_"--she spoke slowly--"I cease to press you to speak at this meeting which has been announced. It can at any rate be postponed. As to the other and graver matter, we will discuss it later--and in private. I must take time to think it over."
"Not now, James, not now. I must write some letters immediately, with regard to the meeting."
And without another look at any of her children, she walked proudly through the room. Sir Wilfrid threw the door open for her, and murmured something in her ear--no doubt an offer of consultation. But she only shook her head; and he closed the door.
Then while Arthur, his hands on his hips, walked restlessly up and down, and Coryston, lying back on the sofa, stared at the ceiling, Marcia, James, and Sir Wilfrid looked at each other in a common dismay.