Mary restrained the passionate anger that flamed within her. It was a cruel blow to find her father so wanting in courage when the critical moment came. He was prepared to sit down and weep, when hourly the danger was drawing nearer. Instinctively Mary's thoughts went out to Ralph Darnley. He would not have taken the blow like this, though he had not the good fortune to call himself a Dashwood. He would be up and doing. Perhaps it would be as well to consult him and ask his advice. She felt ashamed of herself as the thought occurred to her. And yet she had no other friend in the world. Despite her exalted position, Mary was a very lonely girl. What was the use of all her pride? This splendid isolation faded to ashes now that she was face to face with the task before her. Evidently her father meant to do nothing, he would submit tamely to the degradation and wait for it to pass. There were dead and gone Dashwoods smiling, or simpering, or frowning from the walls--soldiers and statesmen, scholars, famous beauties, and not one of them had ever seen the tainting of the family name. It was left to Sir George to submit tamely to that. Mary could see that his eyes were still wet. "Something must be done," she said. "Are there no jewels that one could turn into cash? Strange that I have never given a thought before to the family jewels! But surely in a family like ours there must be historic diamonds and the like. Did I not hear once from somebody that the Dashwood emeralds are unique? I am told that it is no uncommon thing for great ladies to take these jewels to men in London who advance money on them. I have listened to such stories with incredulity--I begin to see now why things like this have to be done. Let me have them and I will go to London this afternoon. My cheeks flame with shame when I think of it; but I suppose there are harder tests of one's endurance. Where are they, father?"