"I don't so much care about Mrs. Melrose," exclaimed Tatham. "We can
give her money, and make her comfortable, if it comes to that. But
it's the girl--and the hideous injustice of that fellow there--that
Faversham--ousting her from her rights--getting the old man into his
power--boning his property--and then writing hypocritical notes like
that!"
He stood before her, flushed and excited; a broad-shouldered avenger of
the sex, such as any distressed maiden might have been glad to light
upon. But again Victoria was aware that the case was not as simple as it
sounded. However, she was no less angry than he. Mother and son were on
the brink of making common cause against a grasping impostor; who was not
to be allowed to go off--either with money that did not belong to him, or
with angelic sympathies that still less belonged to him. Meanwhile on
this point, whatever may have been in their minds, they said on this
occasion not a word. Victoria pressed her plan. And in the end Tatham
most reluctantly consented that she should endeavour to force a surprise
interview with Melrose the following day.
They returned to the little drawing-room where Felicia Melrose, it
seemed, had been giving the Penfolds a difficult half hour. For as soon
as the Tathams had stepped into the garden, she had become entirely
monosyllabic; after a drive from Duddon at Harry Tatham's side, during
which, greatly to her host's surprise, she had suddenly and unexpectedly
found her tongue, talking, in a torrent of questions, all the way,
insatiably.
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