"Surely," she said, "your friend, the consul, has told you in his letter about the mark on the clothes?"Something of the girlish hesitation and timidity which had marked her demeanor at her interview with Mercy in the French cottage re-appeared in her tone and manner as she spoke those words.The changes--mostly changes for the worse--wrought in her by the suffering through which she had passed since that time were now (for the moment) effaced.All that was left of the better and simpler side of her character asserted itself in her brief appeal to Julian.She had hitherto repelled him.He began to feel a certain compassionate interest in her now.
"The consul has informed me of what you said to him," he answered, kindly."But, if you will take my advice, I recommend you to tell your story to Lady Janet in your own words."Grace again addressed herself with submissive reluctance to Lady Janet.
"The clothes your ladyship speaks of," she said, "were the clothes of another woman.The rain was pouring when the soldiers detained me on the frontier.I had been exposed for hours to the weather--I was wet to the skin.The clothes marked 'Mercy Merrick' were the clothes lent to me by Mercy Merrick herself while my own things were drying.I was struck by the shell in those clothes.I was carried away insensible in those clothes after the operation had been performed on me."Lady Janet listened to perfection--and did no more.She turned confidentially to Horace, and said to him, in her gracefully ironical way: "She is ready with her explanation."Horace answered in the same tone: "A great deal too ready."Grace looked from one of them to the other.A faint flush of color showed itself in her face for the first time.
"Am I to understand," she asked, with proud composure, "that you don't believe me?"Lady Janet maintained her policy of silence.She waved one hand courteously toward Julian, as if to say, "Address your inquiries to the gentleman who introduces you." Julian, noticing the gesture, and observing the rising color in Grace's cheeks, interfered directly in the interests of peace "Lady Janet asked you a question just now," he said; "Lady Janet inquired who your father was.""My father was the late Colonel Roseberry."Lady Janet made another confidential remark to Horace."Her assurance amazes me!" she exclaimed.
Julian interposed before his aunt could add a word more."Pray let us hear her," he said, in a tone of entreaty which had something of the imperative in it this time.He turned to Grace."Have you any proof to produce," he added, in his gentler voice, "which will satisfy us that you are Colonel Roseberry's daughter?"Grace looked at him indignantly."Proof!" she repeated."Is my word not enough?"Julian kept his temper perfectly."Pardon me," he rejoined, "you forget that you and Lady Janet meet now for the first time.Try to put yourself in my aunt's place.How is she to know that you are the late Colonel Roseberry's daughter?"Grace's head sunk on her breast; she dropped into the nearest chair.The expression of her face changed instantly from anger to discouragement."Ah," she exclaimed, bitterly, "if I only had the letters that have been stolen from me!""Letters, "asked Julian, "introducing you to Lady Janet?""Yes." She turned suddenly to Lady Janet."Let me tell you how I lost them," she said, in the first tones of entreaty which had escaped her yet.
Lady Janet hesitated.It was not in her generous nature to resist the appeal that had just been made to her.The sympathies of Horace were far less easily reached.He lightly launched a new shaft of satire--intended for the private amusement of Lady Janet."Another explanation!" he exclaimed, with a look of comic resignation.
Julian overheard the words.His large lustrous eyes fixed themselves on Horace with a look of unmeasured contempt.
"The least you can do," he said, sternly, "is not to irritate her.It is so easy to irritate her!" He addressed himself again to Grace, endeavoring to help her through her difficulty in a new way."Never mind explaining yourself for the moment," he said."In the absence of your letters, have you any one in London who can speak to your identity?"Grace shook her head sadly."I have no friends in London," she answered.
It was impossible for Lady Janet--who had never in her life heard of anybody without friends in London--to pass this over without notice."No friends in London!" she repeated, turning to Horace.
Horace shot another shaft of light satire."Of course not!" he rejoined.
Grace saw them comparing notes."My friends are in Canada," she broke out, impetuously."Plenty of friends who could speak for me, if I could only bring them here."As a place of reference--mentioned in the capital city of England--Canada, there is no denying it, is open to objection on the ground of distance.Horace was ready with another shot."Far enough off, certainly," he said.
"Far enough off, as you say," Lady Janet agreed.
Once more Julian's inexhaustible kindness strove to obtain a hearing for the stranger who had been confided to his care."A little patience, Lady Janet," he pleaded."A little consideration, Horace, for a friendless woman.""Thank you, sir," said Grace."It is very kind of you to try and help me, but it is useless.They won't even listen to me." She attempted to rise from her chair as she pronounced the last words.Julian gently laid his hand on her shoulder and obliged her to resume her seat.
