No advantage whatever was obtained by Lady Mary's interview with her father. He persisted that Mrs Finn had been untrue to him when she left Matching without telling him all that she knew of his daughter's engagement with Mr Tregear. No doubt by degrees that idea which he at first entertained was expelled from his heat,--the idea that she had been cognizant of the whole thing before she came to Matching; but even this was done so slowly that there was no moment at which he became aware of any lessened feeling of indignation. To his thinking she had betrayed her trust, and he could not be got by his daughter to say that he would forgive her.
He certainly could not be got to say that he would apologise for the accusation he had made. It was nothing less that his daughter asked; and he could hardly refrain himself from anger when she asked it. 'There should not have been a moment,' he said, 'before she came and told me and told me all.' Poor Lady Mary's position was certainly uncomfortable enough. The great sin,--the sin which was so great that to have known it for a day without revealing it was in itself a damning sin on the part of Mrs Finn,--was Lady Mary's sin. And she differed so entirely from her father as to think that the sin of her own was a virtue, and that to have spoken of it to him would have been, on the part of Mrs Finn, a treachery so deep that no woman ought to have forgive it! When he spoke of a matter which deeply affected his honour,--she could hardly refrain from asserting that his honour was quite safe in his daughter's hands. And when in his heart he declared that it should have been Mrs Finn's first care to save him from disgrace, Lady Mary did break out, 'Papa there could be no disgrace.' 'That for a moment shall be laid aside,' he said, with that manner by which even his peers in council had never been able not to be awed, 'but if you communicate with Mrs Finn at all you must be made to understand that I regard her conduct as inexcusable.'
Nothing had been gained, and poor Lady Mary was compelled to write a few lines which were to her most painful in writing.
'MY DEAR MRS FINN, 'I have seen papa, and he thinks that you ought to have told him when I told you. It occurs to me that it would have been a cruel thing to do, and most unfair to Mr Tregear, who was quite willing to go to papa, and had only put off doing so because of poor mamma's death. As I had told mamma, of course it was right that he should tell papa. Then I told you, because you were so kind to me! I am so sorry that I have got you into this trouble; but what can I do?
'I told him I must write to you. I suppose it is better that I should, although what I have to say is so unpleasant. I hope it will all blow over in time, because I love you dearly. You may be quite sure of one thing,--that I shall never change.' (In this assurance the writer was alluding not to her friendship for her friend but her love for her lover,--and so the friend understood her) I hope things will be settled some day, and then we may be able to meet.
