Part 35 (1/2)
”You have perhaps a message to me, Mrs. Forrester, from Tante,” she said.
”No, Karen, no,” Mrs. Forrester with irrepressible severity returned. ”I have no message for you. Any message, I think should come from your husband and not from your guardian.”
Karen sat silent, her eyes moving away from her visitor's face and fixing themselves on the wall above her head.
The impulse that had brought Mrs. Forrester was suffering alterations.
Gregory had revealed the case to her as worse than she had supposed; Karen emphasized the revelation. And what of Mercedes between these two young egoists? ”I must ask you, Karen,” she said, ”whether you realise how Gregory has behaved, to the woman to whom you, and he, owe so much?”
Karen continued to look fixedly at the wall and after a moment of deliberation replied: ”Tante did not speak rightly to Gregory, Mrs.
Forrester. She lost her temper very much. You know that Tante can lose her temper.”
Mrs. Forrester, at this, almost lost hers. ”You surprise me, Karen. Your husband had spoken insultingly of her friends--and yours--to her. Why attempt to s.h.i.+eld him? I heard the whole story, in detail, from your guardian, you must remember.”
Again Karen withdrew into a considering silence; but, though her face remained impa.s.sive, Mrs. Forrester observed that a slight flush rose to her cheeks.
”Gregory did not intend Tante to overhear what he said,” she produced at last. ”It was said to me--and I had questioned him--not to her. Tante came in by chance. It is not likely, Mrs. Forrester, that my version would differ in any way from hers.”
”You mustn't take offence at what I say, Karen,” Mrs. Forrester spoke with more severity; ”your version does differ. To my astonishment you seem actually to defend your husband.”
”Yes; from what is not true: that is not to differ from Tante as to what took place.” Karen brought her eyes to Mrs. Forrester's.
”From what is not true. Very well. You will not deny that he so intensely dislikes your guardian and has shown it so plainly to her that she has had to leave you. You will not deny that, Karen?”
”No. I will not deny that,” Karen replied.
”My poor child--it is true, and it is only a small part of the truth. I don't know what Gregory has said to you in private, but even Mercedes had not prepared me for what he said to me this morning.”
”What did he say to you this morning, Mrs. Forrester?”
”He believes her to be a bad woman, Karen; do you realise that; has he told you that; can you bear it? Dangerous, unscrupulous, tyrannous, devoured by egotism, were the words he used of her. I shall not forget them. He accused her of hypocrisy in her feeling for you. He hoped that you might never see her again. It is terrible, Karen. Terrible. It puts us all--all of us who love Mercedes, and you through her, into the most impossible position.”
Karen sat, her head erect, her eyes downcast, with a rigidity of expression almost torpid.
”Do you see the position he puts us in, Karen?” Mrs. Forrester went on with insistence. ”Have you had the matter out with Gregory? Did you realise its gravity? I must really beg you to answer me.”
”I have not yet spoken with my husband,” said Karen, in a chill, lifeless tone.
”But you will? You cannot let it pa.s.s?”
”No, Mrs. Forrester. I will not let it pa.s.s.”
”You will insist that he shall make a full apology to Mercedes?”
”Is he to apologise to her for hating her?” Karen at this asked suddenly.
”For hating her? What do you mean?” Mrs. Forrester was taken aback.
”If he is to apologise,” said Karen, in a still colder, still more lifeless voice, ”it must be for something that can be changed. How can he apologise to her for hating her if he continues to hate her?”