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CHAPTER XVII. THE WITCH WITH THE YELLOW HAIR.
 A corner is a very pretty addition to a room, and a cleft-stick has been known to present a more picturesque appearance than a straight one. But to find oneself, metaphorically speaking, pushed into the corner or wedged into the cleft of the stick is neither picturesque nor pleasant.  
This was Mrs. Bertram's present position. She had suddenly, and at a moment when she least expected it, been confronted with the ghost of a long ago past. The ghost of a past, so remote that she had almost forgotten it, had come back and stared her in the face. This ghost had assumed terrible dimensions, and the poor woman was dreadfully afraid of it.
 
She had taken a hurried journey to London in the vain hope of laying it. Alas! it would not be laid. Most things, however, can be bought at a price, and Mrs. Bertram had bought the silence of this troublesome ghost of the past. She had bought it at a very heavy cost.
 
Her money was in the hands of trustees; she dared not go to them to assist her, therefore, the only price she could pay was out of her yearly income.
 
To quiet this troublesome ghost she agreed to part with four hundred a year. A third of her means was, therefore, taken away with one fell swoop. Loftus must still have his allowance, for Loftus of all people must know nothing of his mother's anxieties. Mrs. Bertram and her girls would, therefore, have barely five hundred a year to live on. Out of this sum she would still struggle to save, but she knew she could save but little. She knew that all chance of introducing Catherine and Mabel into society was at an end. She had dreamed dreams for her girls, and these dreams must come to nothing. She had hoped many things for them both, she had thought that all her care and trouble would receive its fruition some day in Catherine's establishment, and that Mabel would also marry worthily. In playing with her grandchildren by-and-bye, Mrs. Bertram thought that she might relax her anxieties and feel that her labors had not been in vain. She must put these hopes aside now, for her girls would probably never marry. They would live on at this dull old Manor until their youth had left them, and their sweet, fresh bloom departed.
 
Mrs. Bertram thought of the girls, but no compunctions with regard to them caused her to hesitate even for a moment. She loved some one else much better than these bright-eyed lasses. Loftus was the darling of his mother's heart. It was bad to sacrifice girls, but it was impossible to sacrifice the beloved and only son.
 
Mrs. Bertram saw her solicitors, confided to them her difficulties, and accepted the terms proposed to her by the enemy, who, treacherous and awful, had suddenly risen out of the ashes of the past to confront her.
 
With four hundred a year she bought silence, and silence meant everything for her. Thus she saved herself, and one at least belonging to her, from open shame.
 
She received Catherine's telegram, and was made aware that Josephine Hart had come down to spy out the nakedness of the land. She felt herself, however, in a position to defy Josephine, and she returned to the Manor fairly well pleased.
 
It was Loftus, for whom she had really sacrificed so much, who dealt her the final blow. This idle scapegrace had got into fresh debt and difficulty. Mrs. Bertram expostulated, she wrung her hands, she could almost have torn her hair. The young man stood before her half-abashed, half sulky.
 
"Can you help me, mother? That's the main point," was his reiterated cry.
 
Mrs. Bertram managed at last to convince him that she had not a farthing of ready money left.
 
"In that case," he replied, "nothing but ruin awaits me."
 
His mother wept when he told her this. She was shaken with all she had undergone in London, poor woman, and this man, who could cringe to her for a large dole out of her pittance, was the beloved of her heart.
 
He begged of her to put her hand to a bill; a bill which should not become due for six months. She consented; she was weak enough to set him, as he expressed it, absolutely on his feet. All debts would be paid at once, and he would never exceed his allowance again; and as to his mother's difficulty, in meeting a bill for six hundred pounds, it was not in Loftus Bertram's nature to trouble himself on this score six months ahead.
 
That bill, however was the proverbial last straw to Mrs. Bertram. It haunted her by day and night; she dreamt of it, sleeping, she pondered over it, waking. Six short months would speedily disappear, and then she would be ruined; she could not meet the bill, exposure and disaster must follow.
 
Even very honorable people when they get themselves into corners often seek for means of escape which certainly would not occur to them as the most dignified exits if they were, for instance, not in the corner, but in the middle of the room.
 
Mrs. Bertram was a woman of resources, and she made up her mind what to do. She made it up absolutely, and no doubts or difficulties daunted her for an instant. Loftus should marry Beatrice Meadowsweet long before the six months were out.
 
Having ascertained positively not only from her mother's lips, but also from those of Mr. Ingram, that the young girl could claim as her portion twenty thousand pounds on her wedding day, Mrs. Bertram felt there was no longer need to hesitate. Beatrice was quite presentable in herself; she was handsome, she was well-bred, she had a gracious and even careless repose of manner which would pass muster anywhere for the highest breeding. It would be quite possible to crush that fat and hopelessly vulgar mother, and it would be easy, more than easy, to talk of the wealthy merchant's office instead of the obnoxious draper's shop.
 
Bertram, who had just moved with the dépot of his regiment to Chatham, on returning to his quarters one evening from mess saw lying on his table a thick letter in his mother's handwriting. He took it up carelessly, and, as he opened it, he yawned. Mother's letters are not particularly sacred things to idolized sons of Bertram's type.
 
"I wonder what the old lady has got to say for herself," he murmured. "Can she have seen Nina? And has Nina said anything. Not that she can seriously injure............
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