"I am willing to do so, Sir Rupert," answered Cecilia; "but you really appear to be joking me yourself. You speak in enigmas about the ruin that hangs over you and will involve me;—you refuse to entrust me with more of your secret than is necessary to serve as a preface for your demand;—and that demand is a thousand pounds! A thousand pounds are required in a few hours of a person who has no diamonds to pledge—no friends to apply to—"
"Stay, Cecilia," cried the baronet. "You cannot be without friends. For a year past you have been well supplied with funds—you have redeemed your diamonds twice—you have satisfied many of our creditors—the servants' wages and the rent have been regularly paid—"
"And all this has been done without the contribution of one shilling on the part of my husband towards the household expenses," added Lady Cecilia.
"I am glad you have mentioned that point," exclaimed Sir Rupert: "it proves that you have friends—that perhaps your father and mother assist you in private—in a word, that you have some resources. Now what those resources may be, I do not ask you: all I require is assistance—now—within a few hours—before twelve to-morrow."
"Even if I could raise the sum you require," said Cecilia, "I would not think of giving it to you without knowing for what destination it was intended."
"And can you procure the sum, if I reveal to you—if I tell you——"
"I promise nothing," interrupted Lady Cecilia drily.
"But you will do your best?" persisted the baronet.
"I will do nothing without being previously made aware of the real nature of your difficulties."
"I will then keep you in the dark no longer. The cause of my embarrassment is a bill of exchange, for a thousand pounds, now lying in Greenwood's hands, and due to-morrow."
"That is but a simple debt; and, methinks, Sir Rupert, that your acquaintance with bills is not so slight as to render you an alarmist respecting the consequences."
"Were it only a simple matter of debt, I should care but little," said Sir Rupert, still compelled to support the biting raillery of his wife: "but unfortunately—in an evil hour—I know not what demon prompted me at the moment——"
"Speak, Sir Rupert—tell me the truth at once," cried Lady Cecilia, now really alarmed.
"I say that in an evil hour—in a moment of desperation—in an excess of frenzy—I committed a forgery!"
"A forgery!" repeated Lady Cecilia, turning deadly pale. "Ah! what a disgrace to the family—what shame for me——"
"I told you that my ruin would redound upon yourself, Cecilia. But there is more yet for you to hear. The acceptance that I forged——"
"Well?"
"Was that of Lord Tremordyn——"
"My father!"
"And now you know all. Can you assist me?"
"Sir Rupert, I have no means of raising one tenth part of the sum that you need to cover this infamous transaction."
"And yet you seemed to say that if I told you the nature of my difficulties——"
"I was curious to learn your secret; and as you appeared resolved to keep it from me, I thought I would see if there were no means of wheedling it out of you."
"And you therefore have no hope to give me?" said the baronet, in a tone of despair.
"None. Where could I raise one thousand pounds? how am I to obtain such a sum? It is for you either to pacify Mr. Greenwood, or to throw yourself at my father's feet and confess all."
"Mr. Greenwood is resolute; and you know that your father would spurn me from his presence. So far from me being able to help myself, it is for you to help me. Perhaps Mr. Greenwood would listen to your representations; or else Lord Tremordyn would accord to you what he would never concede to me."
"You cannot suppose that I can have any influence upon Mr. Greenwood," began Lady Cecilia: "and as for—"
"On the contrary," said Sir Rupert, fixing his eyes in a significant manner upon his wife's countenance; "I have every reason to believe that your influence over Mr. Greenwood is very great; and I will now thank you to exercise it in my behalf."
"What do you mean, Sir Rupert?" exclaimed Cecilia, a deep blush suffusing her face, and her eyes sinking beneath her husband's expressive look.
"Do not force me to explanations, Cecilia," returned the baronet. "I know more than you imagine—I have proofs of more than you fancy I could even suspect. But of that no matter: relieve me from this embarrassment—and I will never trouble you about your pursuits."
"What would you have me do?" asked the guilty wife, in a trembling voice.
"Go to Greenwood and settle this business for me," said the baronet, in an authoritative tone.
"I cannot—I dare not—I have no right to demand such a favour of him—I should be certain to experience a refusal—I—"
"Lady Cecilia," interrupted the baronet, speaking in a slow and emphatic manner, "Mr. Greenwood is too gallant a man to refuse a mere trifle to a lady who has refused nothing to him."
"Sir Rupert—you cannot suppose—you—"
"I mean what I say, madam," added the baronet sternly. "Mr. Greenwood is your paramour, and you can surely use your influence with him to save your husband."
"My God! what do I hear?" ejaculated Cecilia. "What proof have you, Sir Rupert—what testimony—what ground—"
"Every proof—every testimony—every ground," interrupted the baronet impatiently. "But, again I say, I do not wish to ruin your reputation, if you will save mine."
"Impossible!" cried Lady Cecilia. "I do not deny that Mr. Greenwood has accommodated me with an occasional loan—upon interest—"
"Interest indeed!" said the baronet, whose turn to assume a tone of raillery had now arrived: "interest paid from the bank of my honour!"
"Upon legal and commercial terms has he lent me money," continued Lady Cecilia; "and this very evening has he refused to advance me another shilling!"
"Is that true, Cecilia?" demanded Sir Rupert.
"Nay—satisfy yourself," said the lady; and drawing a note from her bosom, she handed it to her husband.
The correspondence that passed between Mr. Greenwood and Lady Cecilia was always of a laconic and most guarded nature: there was consequently nothing in the letter now communicated to Sir Rupert Harborough, to confirm his belief in his wife's criminality. Indeed, the epistle was neither more nor less than any gentleman might write upon a matter of business to any lady.
"I see that Mr. Greenwood is tired of you, Cecilia," said the baronet, throwing the note upon the table, "and that he is anxious to break off the connexion. Now I will tell you how you must be kind enough to act," he continued, in a tone of command. "You must proceed at once to Mr. Greenwood; you must tell him that I have discovered all—that I have positive proofs—that since the day when Chichester discovered him with his arm round your neck in my drawing-room—"
"Oh! that villain Chichester!" murmured Lady Cecilia.
"That ever since that day," continued the baronet, "Chichester and myself have watched your proceedings—have seen you, Cecilia, repair to the appointments agreed upon with your paramour—"
"But this is atrocious!" ejaculated the lady, now dreadfully excited.
"Nay—do not interrupt me," said Sir Rupert in an imperative manner. "You must tell Mr. Greenwood that I and my witness have followed you both to an hotel at Greenwich—that we have been in the next room and have overheard your conversation—that