She went to the rainy window and looked out, seeing not the stormy English Channel but the past. "When she was seventeen the earl of Strang fell for her. He was a lovely boy--comely, kind, high-born and rich. Naturally his parents were horrified at the prospect that he should marry a grocer's daughter. However, she was very beautiful, and even then, though she was young, she had a dignified air that could carry her through most social situations."
"Did they become engaged?" Hugh asked.
"Not formally. But everyone assumed it was a foregone conclusion. Then there was a dreadful scandal. Her father was accused of systematically giving short weight in his shops. An employee he had sacked reported him to the Board of Trade. It was said that he had even cheated the church, which bought tea from him for the Tuesday evening Bible study groups and so on. There was a chance he would go to jail. He denied everything vehemently, and in the end nothing came of it. But Strang dropped Augusta."
"She must have been heartbroken."
"No," Mother said. "Not heartbroken. She was wild with rage. All her life she had been able to have her own way, Now she wanted Strang more than she had ever wanted anything--and she couldn't have him."
"And she married Uncle Joseph on the rebound, as they say."
"I'd say she married him in a fit of temper. He was older than she by seven years, which is a lot when you're seventeen; and he wasn't much better-looking then than he is now; but he was very rich, even richer than Strang. To give her credit, she has done all she can to be a good wife to him. But he will never be Strang, and she is still angry about that."
"What happened to Strang?"
"He married a French countess and died in a hunting accident."
"I almost feel sorry for Augusta."
"No matter what she has, she always wants more: more money, a more important job for her husband, a higher social position for herself. The reason she is so ambitious--for herself, for Joseph and for Edward--is that she still yearns for what Strang could have given her: the title, the ancestral home, the life of endless leisure, wealth without work. But that isn't what Strang offered her, in truth. He offered her love. That's what she's really lost. And nothing will ever make up for it."
Hugh had never had such an intimate conversation with his mother. He felt encouraged to open his heart to her. "Mother," he began. "About Maisie ..."
She looked puzzled. "Maisie?"
"The girl ... all the trouble is about. Maisie Robinson."
