'Because people are so mean and poor-spirited; and because they think that money is more than anything else. It should be nothing at all in such matters. I don't know how it can be anything. They have been saying that to me all along,--as though one were to stop to think whether one was rich or poor.' Tregear, when this was said, could not but remember a time not very much prior to that which Mary had not stopped to think, neither for a while had he and Mabel. 'I suppose it was worse for me than for you,' she added.
'I hope not.'
'But it was, Frank; and therefore I ought to have made it up to me now. It was very bad to be alone here, particularly when I felt that papa always looked at me as though I were a sinner. He did not mean it, but he could not help looking at me like that. As there was nobody to whom I could say a word.'
'It was pretty much the same with me.'
'Yes; but you were not offending a father who could not keep himself from looking reproaches at you. I was like a boy at school who had been put into Coventry. And then they sent me to Lady Cantrip!'
'Was that very bad?'
'I do believe that if I were a young woman with a well-ordered mind, I should feel myself very much indebted to Lady Cantrip. She had a terrible task of it. But I could not teach myself to like her. I believe she knew all through that I should get my way at last.'
'That ought to have made you friends.'
'But yet she tried everything she could. And when I told her about that meeting up at Lord Grex's, she was so shocked! Do you remember that?'
'Do I remember it!'
'Were you not shocked?' This question was not to be answered by any word. 'I was,' she continued. 'It was an awful thing to do; but I was determined to show them all that I was in earnest. Do you remember how Miss Cassewary looked?'
'Miss Cassewary knew all about it.'
'I daresay she did. And so I suppose did Mabel Grex. I had thought that perhaps I might make Mabel a confidante, but--'
'But what?'
'You like Mabel, do you not? I do.'
'I like her very, very much.'
'Perhaps you have liked her too well for that, eh, Frank?'
'Too well for what?'
'That she should have heard all that I had to say about you with sympathy. If so, I am sorry.'
'You need not fear that I have ever for a moment been untrue to either her or you.'
'I am sure you have not to me. Poor Mabel! Then they took me to Custins. That was the worst of all. I cannot quite tell you what happened there.' Of course he asked her,--but as she had said, she could not quite tell him about Lord Popplecourt.
The next morning the Duke asked his guest in a playful tone what was his Christian name. It could hardly be that he should not have known, but yet he asked the question.
'Francis Oliphant,' said Tregear.
'Frank,' whispered Mary, who was with them.
'Then I will call you Frank, if you will allow me. The use of Christian names is, I think, pleasant and hardly common enough among us. I almost forget my own boy's name because the practice has grown up of calling him by a title.'
'I am going to call him Abraham,' said Isabel.
'Abraham is a good name, only I do not think he got it from his godfathers and godmothers.'
'Who can call a man Plantagenet? I should as soon think of calling my father-in-law Coeur de Lion.'