"But what am I to do?" Dashwood asked feebly. "I am an old man, I have been accustomed to the best of everything all my lifetime, and here I am cut off from all my pleasures and not a penny to call my own. I can't starve, my good fellow, and I couldn't stay here with Lady Dashwood; she gets on my nerves terribly. What am I to do? Really, I feel in absolute need of a cigar and glass of champagne. It is not my habit to drink at this time of the day, but my condition calls for it." Dashwood crept away with many a sigh and groan, and Ralph was left to his own by no means pleasant thoughts. He had deliberately struck the blow, and now that it had fallen, he was inclined to be dismayed at the result. It was very hard upon this feeble old man, it was very hard upon Mary, but Ralph steeled himself for the fray. Things were going to be worse yet, the lily was going to pine upon the stem. Still, it would never do now to become infirm of purpose, let the consequences be ever so bad. Yet, if the worst came to the worst, it would be easy to sweep away the whole network of intrigue and fraud by the raising of a finger. It was necessary that Mary should learn her lesson to the last letter. That the girl would fight hard against her misfortunes Ralph did not need to be told. That she would refuse to eat the bread of charity at another person's expense he was perfectly sure. He was still debating the problem when Mary entered the hall again. Her face was very white; there were dark rings under her blue eyes, which were now swollen with tears. The girl flushed as she saw the sympathy in Ralph's face. "Do not think me weak," she pleaded. "I am finding out that I am only human after all. I have always despised tears, but the pain at my heart was so great that tears brought the only cure for it. But I did not come here to talk about myself. I have been telling Lady Dashwood everything, and she has expressed a desire to see you. What have you done with my father?" "He has gone to the dining-room. He declared that exhausted nature required a stimulant in the form of champagne. I am afraid that you will not find your father much use to you in the dark hours to come, Mary." "I'm afraid not," Mary sighed, "but won't you go and see Lady Dashwood? She is upstairs in her sitting-room. Of course, she is upset; in fact, she has been saying all sorts of strange things which are beyond my comprehension. Why has she taken such a strange fancy to you, I wonder?" But Ralph did not appear to be listening. There was every prospect of a painful interview before him. He passed up the stairs to the pleasant room looking over the gardens which Lady Dashwood had made her own. She signed for the door to be shut; as Ralph came towards her, she advanced with both hands outstretched. "You will guess why I sent for you," she said. "Mary has been telling me everything. So the man who calls himself Vincent Dashwood has made a bold move at last."