The Dukes Children | Page 9

husband that their daughter should marry a commoner
without an income. But in thinking all that, there could be now nothing
gained. What ought she to do--at once? The girl, in telling her, had
exacted no promise of secrecy, nor would she have given any such
promise; but yet she did not like the idea of telling the tale behind the
girl's back. It was evident that Lady Mary had considered herself to be
safe in confiding her story to her mother's old friend. Lady Mary no
doubt had had her confidence with her mother,--confidences from
which it had been intended by both that the father should be excluded;
and now she seemed naturally to expect that this new ally should look
at this great question as her mother had looked at it. The father had
been regarded as a great outside power, which could hardly be
overcome, but which might be evaded, or made inoperative by
stratagem. It was not that the daughter did not love him. She loved him
and venerated him highly,--the veneration perhaps being stronger than
the love. The Duchess, too, had loved him dearly,--more dearly in late
years than in her early life. But her husband to her had always been an
outside power which had in many cases to be evaded. Lady Mary,
though she did not express all this, evidently thought that in this new
friend she had found a woman whose wishes and aspirations for her
would be those which her mother had entertained.
But Mrs Finn was much troubled in her mind, thinking that it was her
duty to tell the story to the Duke. It was not only the daughter who had
trusted her, but the father also; and the father's confidence had been not
only the first but by far the holier of the two. And the question was one
so important to the girl's future happiness! There could be no doubt that
the peril of her present position was very great.
'Mary,' she said one morning, when the fortnight was nearly at an end,
'your father ought to know all this. I should feel that I had betrayed him
were I to go away leaving him in ignorance.'
'You do not mean to say that you will tell?' said the girl, horrified at the
idea of such treachery.

'I wish that I could induce you to do so. Every day that he is kept in the
dark is an injury to you.'
'I am doing nothing. What harm can come? It is not as though I was
seeing him every day.'
'This harm will come; your father of course will know that you became
engaged to Mr Tregear in Italy, and that a fact so important to him has
been kept back from him.'
'If there is anything in that, the evil has been done already. Of course
poor mamma did mean to tell him.'
'She cannot tell him now, and therefore you ought to do what she would
have done.'
'I cannot break my promise to him.' 'Him' always meant Mr Tregear. 'I
have told him that I would not do so till I had his consent, and I will
not.'
This was very dreadful to Mrs Finn, and yet she was most unwilling to
take upon herself the part of stern elder, and declare that under the
circumstances she must tell the tale. The story had been told to her
under the supposition that she was not a stern elder, that she was
regarded as the special friend of the dear mother who was gone, that
she might be trusted against the terrible weight of parental authority.
She could not endure to be regarded at once a traitor by this young
friend who had sweetly inherited the affection with which the Duchess
had regarded her. And yet if she were to be silent now how could she
forgive herself? 'The Duke certainly ought to know at once,' said she,
repeating her words merely that she might gain some time for thinking,
and pluck up courage to declare her purpose, should she resolve on
betraying the secret.
'If you tell him now, I will never forgive you,' said Lady Mary.
'I am bound in honour to see that your father knows a thing which is of
such vital importance to him and to you. Having heard all this I have no

right to keep it from him. If Mr Tregear really loves you'--Lady Mary
smiled at the doubt implied by this suggestion--'he ought to feel that for
your sake there should be no secret from your father.' Then she paused
a moment to think. 'Will you let me see Mr Tregear myself, and talk to
him about it?'
To this Lady Mary at first demurred, but when she found