At last she
could bear it no longer. She broke abruptly on his talk.
"Mayn't I know what's happened at Threlfall? Your mother told me--you had
heard."
He pulled himself together, while many things he would rather have
forgotten rushed back upon him.
"We're no forrader!" he said impatiently. "I don't believe we shall
get a brass farthing out of Melrose, if you ask me; at least without
going to law and making a scandal; partly because he's Melrose, and
that sort--sooner die than climb down, and the rest of it--but mostly--"
He broke off.
"Mostly?" repeated Lydia.
"I don't know whether I'd better go on. Faversham's a friend of yours."
Tatham looked down upon her, his blunt features reddening.
"Not so much a friend that I can't hear the truth about him," said Lydia,
smiling rather faintly. "What do you accuse him of?"
He hesitated a moment; then the inner heat gathered, and flashed out.
Wasn't it best to be frank?--best for her, best for himself?
"Don't you think it looks pretty black?" he asked her, breathing
quick; "there he is, getting round an old man, and plotting for money
he's no right to! Wouldn't you have thought that any decent fellow
would sooner break stones than take the money that ought to have been
that girl's--that at least he'd have said to Melrose 'provide for her
first--your own child--and then do what you like for me.' Wouldn't that
have been the honest thing to do? But I went to him yesterday--told him
the story--he promised to look into it--and to use his influence.
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