"Your father would be wise enough to defend his child, I imagine," replied
Austin, "although he is not a person whose conduct I would pretend to
answer for. But this quarrel between you and your husband must be patched
up, Clary."
"That will never be."
"It must be--for your son's sake, if not for yours. You pretend to love
that boy, and are yet so blind to his interests? He is not the heir to an
entailed estate, remember. Granger is a self-made man, and if you offend
him, may leave Arden Court to his daughter's children."
She had robbed her son of his birthright, perhaps. For what? Because she
had not had the strength to shut her heart against a guilty love; because,
in the face of every good resolution she had ever made, she had been weak
enough to listen when George Fairfax chose to speak.
"It seems very hard," she said helplessly.
"It would be uncommonly hard upon that child, if this breach were not
healed. But it must be healed."
"You do not know half the bitter things Mr. Granger said. Nothing would
induce me to humiliate myself to him."
"Not the consideration of your son's interests?"
"God will protect my son; he will not be punished for any sin of his
mother's."
"Come now, Clary, be reasonable. Let me write to Granger in my own proper
character, telling him that you are here."
"If you do that, I will never forgive you. It would be most dishonourable,
most unkind.
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