But Mrs Finn was much troubled in her mind, thinking that it was her duty to tell the story to the Duke. It was not only the daughter who had trusted her, but the father also; and the father's confidence had been not only the first but by far the holier of the two. And the question was one so important to the girl's future happiness! There could be no doubt that the peril of her present position was very great.
'Mary,' she said one morning, when the fortnight was nearly at an end, 'your father ought to know all this. I should feel that I had betrayed him were I to go away leaving him in ignorance.'
'You do not mean to say that you will tell?' said the girl, horrified at the idea of such treachery.
'I wish that I could induce you to do so. Every day that he is kept in the dark is an injury to you.'
'I am doing nothing. What harm can come? It is not as though I was seeing him every day.'
'This harm will come; your father of course will know that you became engaged to Mr Tregear in Italy, and that a fact so important to him has been kept back from him.'
'If there is anything in that, the evil has been done already. Of course poor mamma did mean to tell him.'
'She cannot tell him now, and therefore you ought to do what she would have done.'
'I cannot break my promise to him.' 'Him' always meant Mr Tregear.
'I have told him that I would not do so till I had his consent, and I will not.'
This was very dreadful to Mrs Finn, and yet she was most unwilling to take upon herself the part of stern elder, and declare that under the circumstances she must tell the tale. The story had been told to her under the supposition that she was not a stern elder, that she was regarded as the special friend of the dear mother who was gone, that she might be trusted against the terrible weight of parental authority. She could not endure to be regarded at once a traitor by this young friend who had sweetly inherited the affection with which the Duchess had regarded her. And yet if she were to be silent now how could she forgive herself? 'The Duke certainly ought to know at once,' said she, repeating her words merely that she might gain some time for thinking, and pluck up courage to declare her purpose, should she resolve on betraying the secret.
'If you tell him now, I will never forgive you,' said Lady Mary.
'I am bound in honour to see that your father knows a thing which is of such vital importance to him and to you. Having heard all this I have no right to keep it from him. If Mr Tregear really loves you'--Lady Mary smiled at the doubt implied by this suggestion--'he ought to feel that for your sake there should be no secret from your father.' Then she paused a moment to think.
'Will you let me see Mr Tregear myself, and talk to him about it?'
To this Lady Mary at first demurred, but when she found that in no other way could she prevent Mrs Finn from going at once to the Duke and telling him everything, she consented. Under Mrs Finn's directions she wrote a note to her lover, which Mrs Finn saw, and then undertook to send it, with a letter from herself, to Mr Tregear's address in London. The note was very short, and was indeed dictated by the elder lady, with some dispute, however, as to certain terms, in which the younger lady had her way. It was as follows:
'DEAREST FRANK, 'I wish you to see Mrs Finn, who, as you know, was dear mamma's most particular friend. Please go to her, as she will ask you to do so. When you hear what she says I think you ought to do what she advises.
'Yours for ever and always, 'M.P.'
This Mrs Finn sent enclosed in an envelope, with a few words from herself, asking the gentleman to call upon her in Park Lane, on a day and hour fixed.