And
now she went straight to a certain sitting-room which Mrs. Mallathorpe
had tenanted by day ever since her illness. The final and most important
stage of Esther's venture was at hand.
Mrs. Mallathorpe sat at an open window, wearily gazing out on the park.
Ever since her son's death she had remained in a more or less torpid
condition, rarely talking to any person except Esther Mawson: it had
been manifest from the first that her daughter's presence distressed and
irritated her, and by the doctor's advice Nesta had gone to her as
little as possible, while taking every care to guard her and see to her
comfort. All day long she sat brooding--and only Esther Mawson, now for
some time in her full confidence, knew that her brooding was rapidly
developing into a monomania. Mrs. Mallathorpe, indeed, had but one
thought in her mind--the eventual circumventing of Pratt, and the
destruction of John Mallathorpe's will.
She turned slowly as the maid came in and carefully closed the door
behind her, and her voice was irritable and querulous as she at once
began to complain.
"You've never been near me for two hours!" she said. "Your dinner time
was over long since! I might have been wanting all sorts of things for
aught you cared!"
"I've had something else to do--for you!" retorted Esther, coming close
to her mistress. "Listen, now!--I've got it!"
Mrs.
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