It is my heartfelt wish to own that I have sinned against you, and to make all the atonement that I can.
I am too anxious to deserve your forgiveness to have any fear of seeing you."
Conciliatory as the reply was, it was spoken with a simple and modest dignity of manner which roused Grace Roseberry to fury.
"How dare you speak to me as if you were any equal?" she burst out.
"You stand there and answer me as if you had your right and your place in this house.
You audacious woman!
I have my right and my place here—and what am I obliged to do?
I am obliged to hang about in the grounds, and fly from the sight of the servants, and hide like a thief, and wait like a beggar, and all for what?
For the chance of having a word with you.
Yes! you, madam! with the air of the Refuge and the dirt of the streets on you!"
Mercy's head sank lower; her hand trembled as it held by the back of the chair.
It was hard to bear the reiterated insults heaped on her, but Julian's influence still made itself felt.
She answered as patiently as ever.
"If it is your pleasure to use hard words to me," she said, "I have no right to resent them."
"You have no right to anything!" Grace retorted.
"You have no right to the gown on your back.
Look at yourself, and look at Me!"
Her eyes traveled with a tigerish stare over Mercy's costly silk dress.
"Who gave you that dress? who gave you those jewels?
I know!
Lady Janet gave them to Grace Roseberry.
Are you Grace Roseberry?
That dress is mine.
Take off your bracelets and your brooch.
They were meant for me."
"You may soon have them, Miss Roseberry.
They will not be in my possession many hours longer."
"What do you mean?"
"However badly you may use me, it is my duty to undo the harm that I have done.
I am bound to do you justice—I am determined to confess the truth."
Grace smiled scornfully.
"You confess!" she said.
"Do you think I am fool enough to believe that?
You are one shameful brazen lie from head to foot!
Are you the woman to give up your silks and your jewels, and your position in this house, and to go back to the Refuge of your own accord?
Not you—not you!"
A first faint flush of color showed itself, stealing slowly over Mercy's face; but she still held resolutely by the good influence which Julian had left behind him.
She could still say to herself,
"Anything rather than disappoint Julian Gray." Sustained by the courage which he had called to life in her, she submitted to her martyrdom as bravely as ever.
But there was an ominous change in her now: she could only submit in silence; she could no longer trust herself to answer.
The mute endurance in her face additionally exasperated Grace Roseberry.
"You won't confess," she went on. "You have had a week to confess in, and you have not done it yet.
No, no! you are of the sort that cheat and lie to the last.
I am glad of it; I shall have the joy of exposing you myself before the whole house.
I shall be the blessed means of casting you back on the streets.
Oh! it will be almost worth all I have gone through to see you with a policeman's hand on your arm, and the mob pointing at you and mocking you on your way to jail!"
This time the sting struck deep; the outrage was beyond endurance.
Mercy gave the woman who had again and again deliberately insulted her a first warning.
"Miss Roseberry," she said, "I have borne without a murmur the bitterest words you could say to me.
Spare me any more insults.