a shake of the head, and some small innocent
stratagem that might lead to a happy marriage and settlement in life
with increased income, would have been her treatment of such sin for the
heirs of the great and wealthy. She knew that the world could not afford
to ostracise the men,--though happily it might condemn the women.
Nevertheless, when she came to the single separated instance, though her
heart melted with no ruth for the woman,--in such cases the woman must
be seen before the ruth is felt,--though pity for Kate O'Hara did not
influence her, she did acknowledge the sanctity of a gentleman's word.
If, as Lady Mary told her, and as she could so well believe, the present
Earl of Scroope had given to this girl a promise that he would marry
her, if he had bound himself by his pledged word, as a nobleman and a
gentleman, how could she bid him become a perjured knave? Sans reproche!
Was he thus to begin to live and to deserve the motto of his house by
the conduct of his life?

But then the evil that would be done was so great! She did not for a
moment doubt all that Lady Mary told her about the girl. The worst of it
had indeed been admitted. She was a Roman Catholic, ill-born,
ill-connected, damaged utterly by a parent so low that nothing lower
could possibly be raked out of the world's gutters. And now the girl
herself was--a castaway. Such a marriage as that of which Lady Mary
spoke would not only injure the house of Scroope for the present
generation, but would tend to its final downfall. Would it not be known
throughout all England that the next Earl of Scroope would be the
grandson of a convict? Might there not be questions as to the legitimacy
of the assumed heir? She herself knew of noble families which had been
scattered, confounded, and almost ruined by such imprudence. Hitherto
the family of Scroope had been continued from generation to generation
without stain,--almost without stain. It had felt it to be a fortunate
thing that the late heir had died because of the pollution of his
wretched marriage. And now must evil as bad befall it, worse evil
perhaps, through the folly of this young man? Must that proud motto be
taken down from its place in the hall from very shame? But the evil had
not been done yet, and it might be that her words could save the house
from ruin and disgrace.

She was a woman of whom it may be said that whatever difficulty she
might have in deciding a question she could recognise the nece