Even his shrewdest enemy could not
have suspected Medcroft of a patience which would permit him to sit
quiet in London while the attacks were going on. He found some small
solace in the reflection that he could make the end justify the means.
On their return to the Bristol, Brock and Miss Fowler found the fair
Edith in a pitiful state of collapse. She declared over and over again
that she could not face the Rodneys; it was more than should be expected
of her; she was sure that something would go wrong; why, oh, why was it
necessary to deceive the Rodneys? Why should they be kept in the dark?
Why wasn't Roxbury there to counsel wisely--and more, _ad infinitum_,
until the distracted pair were on the point of deserting the cause. She
finally dissolved into tears, and would not listen to reason,
expostulation, or persuasion. It was then that Brock cruelly but
effectively declared his intention to abdicate, as he also had a
reputation to preserve. Whereupon, with a fine sense of distinction, she
flared up and accused him of treachery to his best friend, Roxbury
Medcroft, who was reposing the utmost confidence in his friendship and
loyalty. How could she be expected to go on with the play if he, the man
upon whom everything depended, was to turn tail in a critical hour like
this?
"How can you have the heart to spoil everything?" she cried indignantly.
He looked at her in fresh amazement.
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