“Geordie dear, there are always things in life that we cannot understand, and things we cannot help; what we must do is to be as brave and honest as we can, and leave the rest to God. Your dear father is very lonely and he has recently married a lady who will be your new mamma. You must try to be as good and courteous and obedient to her as you are to me--and Geordie, son! don’t forget me!”
Here Lady Grizell broke down, and Geordie thought it no shame to cry too.
That week was terribly short. At the end of it Geordie went out into the draughty world again, while Lady Grizell went about saying like her more famous namesake: “Oh, werena my heart lecht I wad dee!”
Geordie could never be induced to speak much about the three months that followed. During those three months Lady Grizell grew thin and pale.
One morning she received a letter from the Hon. Donald in which he informed her that he and his wife had made arrangements for Geordie to go in September to an excellent school in the Forest of Dean where boys received board and education for the modest sum of twenty guineas a year.
Lady Grizell gave a little cry, and stared at the letter in her hand as though it had been some horrible phantom. Then she flew downstairs and into her husband’s study, where he sat writing a report for the Society of Agriculture.
“Augustus, read this! I am going to see Donald to-day, and tell him that I will receive his wife--I can’t let my pride stand in the way of that child any longer--read this!” and she thrust the letter under her husband’s aristocratic nose.
Mr. Fane put on his glasses, read the letter, took them off, folded them up and put them in the case--a methodical, deliberate man, Mr. Fane--then he said slowly:
“Have you considered what people will say? Have you forgotten that everybody knows her most unpleasant story?”
“I cannot help it. People must say what they please. I will not have Geordie go to such a school, even if I have to receive half the fallen women in London to prevent it. If Lochmaben never marries, Geordie will be head of our house.”
Lady Grizell spoke with passionate excitement. Mr. Fane felt that he hardly knew his wife, always so gentle and dignified, in this woman with the pale face and blazing eyes. He expostulated forcibly and at his usual length. If he was somewhat less conscious of the dignity of the House of Cochran than was Lady Grizell, he was keenly alive to the dignity of the House of Fane. But all his exhortation, all his arguments were of no avail. He could not shake Lady Grizell’s determination; and the afternoon saw her speeding in the express toward the interview with her brother.