"Nonsense. Lumbago, indeed! One would think he was a patriarch. But if he doesn't waltz----" Lucilla paused in perplexity. "Does Mr. Gordon waltz?" Rachel meekly inquired. "Oh, no doubt--sure to. I have never seen him, but all those old army men dance well." "Then I suppose Mr. Dalrymple dances well?" "Of course he does. Poor fellow, he excels in everything that is of no consequence. Oh, yes, Mr. Dalrymple is decidedly an acquisition in a ball-room, whatever he may be elsewhere." "Lucilla!" "What, dear?" "Why do you all speak of him in that hard way? You are so kind to everybody else, but for him nobody seems to have a good word. I think it is so cruel!" she broke out with sudden passion. "The way Mrs. Hale insulted him the other night--a man like that, whom she was not fit to associate with--and all of you sitting round and letting her do it--I think it is dreadful!" "Oh, my dear," responded Mrs. Thornley, with tremulous earnestness, a little frightened at the vehemence that she was too dull to understand, and deeply shocked by the implied reflection on her hospitality, "you don't suppose we encouraged or defended Mrs. Hale? We were as vexed as you were at her gross want of taste--of common courtesy, one might say. John was excessively angry--with dear Mrs. Digby sitting by to hear it all; he said at first that he would never have her in his house again." "But he is going to have her?" "Yes. Well, they are old neighbours you see, and related to the Digbys. And I daresay she knows no better." "She is a horrid woman," said Rachel, viciously; "and so is her husband." "A horrid woman?" laughed Lucilla. "Oh, no, dear, be just--he is not so bad as that. And you know, Rachel"--becoming gently argumentative--"it is not surprising that people object to a man who has had such a career as Mr. Dalrymple's. You know what he has done?" "Only fought a duel," said Rachel. "No, I am not defending him, Lucilla, but how many men have done the same in old days, without being objected to?" "It was a very _bad_ duel," said Lucilla gravely. "There were circumstances connected with it that were very disreputable--so they say." "You shouldn't trust to hearsay," protested the girl eagerly. "Why don't you go by the evidence of your own senses? Does he look like the man to do disreputable things?" "He looks like a man who could never do anything mean or underhand," said Mrs. Thornley; "I admit that. He has a noble face; and he has perfect manners; and he is clever. But, oh! Rachel, when a man has been in the dock, and for such a crime as that--" "Do you mean he has been in prison?"