“Let us go to luncheon,” said her mother. “I am glad to hear you are not really in earnest, Captain Gaunt; for of course we should all be very sorry if you went away. London is a siren to whose wiles we all give in. I am as bad myself as any one can be. I never make any secret of my affection for town; but there are some with whose constitutions it never agrees, who either take it too seriously or with too much passion. We old stagers get very moderate and methodical in our dissipations, and make a little go a long way.” But there was a chill at table; and Lady Markham was “not in her usual force.” Sir Thomas, who came in as usual as they were going down-stairs, said, “Anything the matter? Oh, Captain Gaunt going away. Dear me, so soon! I am surprised. It takes a great deal of self-control to make a young fellow leave town at this time of the year.” “It was only a project,” said poor young Gaunt. He was pleased to be persuaded that it was more than could be expected of him. Lady Markham gave Sir Thomas a look which made that devoted friend uncomfortable; but he did not know what he had done to deserve it. And so Captain Gaunt made up his mind to stay. CHAPTER XXXVI. “Yes, I wish you had not said anything, Frances: not that it matters very much. I don’t suppose he was in earnest, or, at all events, he would have changed his mind before evening. But, my dear, this poor young fellow is not able to follow the same course as Markham’s friends do. They are at it all the year round, now in town, now somewhere else. They bet and play, and throw their money about, and at the end of the year they are not very much the worse--or at least that is what he always tells me. One time they lose, but another time they gain. And then they are men who have time, and money more or less. But when a young man with a little money comes among them, he may ruin himself before he knows.” “I am very sorry,” said Frances. “It is difficult to believe that Markham could hurt any one.” Her mother gave her a grateful look. “Dear Markham!” she said. “To think that he should be so good--and yet---- It gives me great pleasure, Frances, that you should appreciate your brother. Your father never did so--and all of them, all the Warings---- But it is understood between us, is it not, that we are not to touch upon that subject?” “Perhaps it would be painful, mamma. But how am I to understand unless I am told?”