As the interview was becoming unpleasant, Lady Ongar
took her candle and went away to bed, leaving the
twenty pounds on the table. As she left the room
she knew that the money was there, but she could not
bring herself to pick it up and restore it to her
pocket. It was improbable, she thought, that
Madam Gordeloup would leave it to the mercy of the
waiters; and the chances were that the notes would
go into the pocket for which they were intended.
And such was the result. Sophie, when she was
left alone, got up from her seat, and stood for some
moments on the rug, making her calculations.
That Lady Ongar should be very angry about Count Pateroff’s
presence Sophie had expected; but she had not expected
that her friend’s anger would be carried to
such extremity that she would pronounce a sentence
of banishment for life. But, perhaps, after all,
it might be well for Sophie herself that such sentence
should be carried out. This fool of a woman with
her income, her park, and her rank, was going to give
herself—so said Sophie to herself—to
a young, handsome, proud, pig of a fellow—so
Sophie called him—who had already shown
himself to be Sophie’s enemy, and who would certainly
find no place for Sophie Gordeloup within his house.
Might it not be well that the quarrel should be consummated
now—such compensation being obtained as
might possibly be extracted. Sophie certainly
knew a good deal, which it might be for the convenience
of the future husband to keep dark—or convenient
for the future wife that the future husband should
not know. Terms might be yet had, although Lady
Ongar had refused to pay anything beyond that trumpery
twenty pounds. Terms might be had; or, indeed,
it might be that Lady Ongar herself, when her anger
was over, might sue for a reconciliation. Or
Sophie—and this idea occurred as Sophie
herself became a little despondent after long calculation—Sophie
herself might acknowledge herself to be wrong, begging
pardon, and weeping on her friend’s neck.
Perhaps it might be worth while to make some further
calculation in bed. Then Sophie, softly drawing
the notes toward her as a cat might have done, and
hiding them somewhere about her person, also went
to her room.
Chapter XXXIV
Vain Repentance
In the morning Lady Ongar prepared herself for starting
at eight o’clock, and, as a part of that preparation,
had her breakfast brought to her upstairs. When
the time was up, she descended to the sitting-room
on the way to the carriage, and there she found Sophie,
also prepared for a journey.
“I am going too. You will let me go?”
said Sophie.
“Certainly,” said Lady Ongar. “I
proposed to you to do so yesterday.”
“You should not be so hard upon your poor friend,”
said Sophie. This was said in the bearing of
Lady Ongar’s maid and of two waiters, and Lady
Ongar made no reply to it. When they were in the
carriage together, the maid being then stowed away
in a dickey or rumble behind, Sophie again whined
and was repentant. “Julie, you should not
be so hard upon your poor Sophie.”
Copyrights
The Claverings from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.