"I told you that the least terrible rumour about Castalia was the rumour that her mind was affected." Lord Seely's face was almost lead-coloured. He pressed his hands one on each side of his head with a gesture of hopeless bewilderment. "This is the most appalling thing!" he murmured, and his voice was scarcely audible as he said it. "I had to make my choice without delay, Lord Seely. I regret to inflict this blow on you in your present suffering state of body; but, if I spared you, I could not have spared Castalia. I chose to spare my wife." "Yes, yes;--quite--quite right. Spare Castalia! I--I thank you, Ancram--for choosing to spare her rather than me." The poor little nobleman's face was convulsed by a kind of spasm for a second or two, and then he burst into tears, sobbing out, with his face hidden in his trembling hands, "What is to be done? Gracious heavens! what is to be done?" "I talked about choosing to spare Castalia," said Algernon, looking at her uncle with a sort of furtive curiosity and a feeling that was more akin to contempt than pity, "but I don't know how long it may be in my power, or anyone's power, to spare her. The only chance for either of us is to get away out of Whitford as quickly as possible." "But--but----My head is so confused. I am stunned, Ancram--stunned! But--what was I going to say? Oh! have you interrogated Castalia? What representations does she make as to the money? There is so much to be said--to be asked. It cannot be but that there is some error. It cannot be. My poor Castalia!" "Interrogating Castalia would be quite useless; worse than useless. You don't know what her behaviour and temper have been lately. She is utterly unreasonable. Ask anyone who knows our house in Whitford; ask my servants what my home has been latterly. I have bought the honour of your lordship's alliance somewhat dear." Lord Seely sank down in his chair as if he had been struck, and his grey head drooped on his breast. "What can I do, Ancram?" he asked, in a tone so contrasted in its feebleness with his usual self-assured, rather strident voice, that it might have touched some persons with compassion. "What can I do?" Then he seemed to make a strong effort to recover some energy of manner, and added, "If it were not for this unfortunate attack which disables me, I would return with you to Whitford to-night. I would see Castalia myself."