'Mamma--you are not so pretty as the Contessa, are you?' she said at
length.
'I am not, Dorothy.'
'Why are you not, mamma?'
'Dorothy--where would you rather live, always; with me, or with
her?'
The little girl looked troubled. 'I am sorry, mamma; I don't mean
to be unkind; but I would rather live with her; I mean, if I might
without trouble, and you did not mind, and it could be just the same
to us all, you know.'
'Has she ever asked you the same question?'
'Never, mamma.'
There lay the sting of it: the Countess seemed the soul of honour
and fairness in this matter, test her as she might. That afternoon
Lady Mottisfont went to her husband with singular firmness upon her
gentle face.
'Ashley, we have been married nearly five years, and I have never
challenged you with what I know perfectly well--the parentage of
Dorothy.'
'Never have you, Philippa dear. Though I have seen that you knew
from the first.'
'From the first as to her father, not as to her mother. Her I did
not know for some time; but I know now.'
'Ah! you have discovered that too?' says he, without much surprise.
'Could I help it? Very well, that being so, I have thought it over;
and I have spoken to Dorothy. I agree to her going. I can do no
less than grant to the Countess her wish, after her kindness to my--
your--her--child.'
Then this self-sacrificing woman went hastily away that he might not
see that her heart was bursting; and thereupon, before they left the
city, Dorothy changed her mother and her home.
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