Old Mr. Blake sat down again at the table, fumbled for his spectacles, unfolded his papers. Meanwhile she stood and waited, with the others behind her, and listened without moving while he read, this time in its legal phraseology, the terrible sentence. She drew a long breath when it was over. This time there was no amaze or confusion. The words were like fire in her brain. “Now I begin to understand. I suppose,” she said, “that there is nothing but public resistance, and perhaps bringing it before a court of law, that could annul _that_? Oh, do not fear. I will not try; but is that the only way?” The old lawyer shook his head. “Not even that. He had the right; and though he has used it as no man should have used it, still, it is done, and cannot be undone.” “Then there is no help for me,” she said. She was perfectly quiet, without a tear or sob or struggle. “No help for me,” she repeated, with a wan little smile about her mouth. “After seventeen years! He had the right, do you say? Oh, how strange a right! when I have been his wife for seventeen years.” Then she added, “Is it stipulated when I am to go? Is there any time given to prepare? And have you told my boy?” “Not a word has been said, Grace--to any one,” John Trevanion said. “Ah, I did not think of that. What is he to be told? A boy of that age. He will think his mother is-- John, God help me! what will you say to my boy?” “God help us all!” cried the strong man, entirely overcome. “Grace, I do not know.” “The others are too young,” she said; “and Rosalind-- Rosalind will trust me; but Rex--it will be better to tell him the simple truth, that it is his father’s will; and perhaps when he is a man he will understand.” She said this with a steady voice, like some queen making her last dispositions in full health and force before her execution--living, yet dying. Then there ensued another silence, which no one ventured to break, during which the doomed woman went back into her separate world of thought. She recovered herself after a moment, and, looking round, with once more that faint smile, asked, “Is there anything else I ought to hear?” “There is this, Mrs. Trevanion,” said old Blake. “One thing is just among so much-- What was settled on you is untouched. You have a right to--” She threw her head high with an indignant motion, and turned away; but after she had made a few steps towards the door, paused and came back. “Look,” she said, “you gentlemen; here is something that is beyond you, which a woman has to bear. I must accept this humiliation, too. I cannot dig, and to beg I am ashamed.” She looked at them with a bitter dew in her eyes, not tears. “I must take his money and be thankful. God help me!” she said. CHAPTER XX.