le views on money matters. They did not undervalue the fortune
that had gone; they were both honestly sorry it had gone, and would have
taken any reasonable means to get it back again. Only Rose allowed that
possibly there might have been some claim in justice on the woman's
part; she could not frame her lips to use the words again. Without
"legal wife" or any such terms passing between them, they were really
arguing the point. Lady Charlton had not the faintest shadow of a doubt
"the woman was a wicked woman, and the wicked woman, as wicked women do,
had entrapped a" (the adjective was conspicuous by its absence) "a man."
Such a woman was to be forgiven, even--a bitter sigh could not be
suppressed--to be prayed for; but it was not necessary to try to take a
falsely charitable view of her, or invent unlikely circumstances in her
defence. It was a relief to the darkest of all dark thoughts in Rose's
mind, the doubt of the validity of her own marriage, to hear her mother
settling this question as she had settled so many questions years ago,
by the weight of personal authority.
At last the clock on the stairs below told them that it was two in the
morning, and Lady Charlton had to leave London by an early train. She
was torn between the claim of her youngest married daughter, who was
laid up in a lonely country house in Scotland, and that of Rose in this
new and miserable trouble.
"I could telegraph to Bertha that I can't come," she said suddenly.
"But I am afraid she would miss me."
"No, no," murmured Rose firmly, "Bertha needs you most now; you must
go," and then, fearing her mother might think she did not want her
quite, quite enough, "I shall look forward to your coming back soon,
very soon."
"Could you--could you come and sleep in my room, Rose?" They were
standing up by the fireplace now.
"If you like mother, only it will be worse for me to-morrow night." They
both looked away from the fire round the room--the room that had been
hers since the first days after the honeymoon.
Then at the same moment Lady Charlton opened her arms and Rose drew
within them, and leant her fair head on her mother's shoulder. So they
stood for a few moments in absolute stillness.
"God bless you, my child," and Rose was left, as she wished, alone.
CHAPTER III
"AS YOU HOPE TO BE FORGIVEN"
Two months passed, and at last the War Office received a parcel for Lady
Rose Bright. It had been sent to headquarters by the
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