‘Ah, I thought it was not so,--I felt sure it was not so!’ cried Mrs. Tracy, recovering herself as her mistake became apparent. ‘Dear Mr. Renton, sit down, and let us talk it over. Forgive a mother’s jealous care. But let me thank you first----’ ‘I don’t want any thanks,’ said Ben, with a certain sullenness, as he sat down at her bidding on the nearest chair. ‘For my life,’ said Mrs. Tracy, looking him calmly in the face. ‘Yes, it was as serious as that. Not that I care much for my life, except for Millicent’s sake. It has no more charms nor hopes for me, Mr. Renton! But I could not die until I see her in better hands than mine. Don’t be angry with me. You asked her,--you offered her---- What was it, in reality, that passed between you yesterday? My darling child was too much agitated to know.’ ‘I had nothing to offer,’ said Ben, with sullen disgust. To pour out his heart to Millicent, and to make his confession thus to her mother, were two very different things. ‘I am penniless, and disinherited. I had to tell her so. Nothing but what I might be able to make as a day-labourer, perhaps,’ he went on, with angry vehemence. ‘Whatever folly said, she has apparently no answer to give.’ ‘In such a case, Mr. Renton,’ said Mrs. Tracy, facing him, ‘it is not my daughter who has to be consulted, but me.’ He had given her an advantage by his ill-breeding, and now he had to rouse himself, and turn round to her and mutter some prayer for pardon. He was in the wrong. As this flashed upon him his colour rose. Had he spoken as he now said he had it would have been an insult. It was an insult, the way in which he was addressing her mother now. ‘Mr. Renton,’ she said, ‘I have put myself into a false position by taking your money; and what is life itself in comparison with one’s true character? I cannot let you despise Millicent’s mother. Here it is; you shall have it back.’ ‘Mrs. Tracy, forgive me, for heaven’s sake! I did not know what I was saying,’ cried Ben. ‘There it is,’ said his opponent, laying the pocket-book on the table between them. ‘Now I can speak. Millicent is an innocent girl, Mr. Renton. She is not one of the kind who fall in love without being asked. Probably, now that she knows you love her, she might learn to love you if you were thrown together. But after the honourable way in which you have told me what your position is, I cannot permit that. I will speak to you frankly. If things had been different I should have been on your side; but I cannot let my child marry a man with nothing. She is too sensitive, too finely organised, too---- I cannot suffer it, Mr. Renton. That is the honest truth. We are going away, and you may not meet again, perhaps.’ ‘That is impossible,’ said Ben, with a firmness of resolution which made her pause in her speech. He spoke so low that it might have been to himself, but she heard it, and it startled her much.