"Her husband takes good care of her," she said. "He is very thoughtful for her comfort. She does not run any risk of harm that he can spare her. If we are all as careful of her welfare as he is, Mr. Dalrymple--if we are as scrupulous to protect her peace now she is at peace----" She broke off, and lifted her eyes wistfully. Mr. Dalrymple looked down upon her with stately and impenetrable composure. "I am deeply thankful to know that her marriage has so far been satisfactory," he said. "I suppose the house in Toorak is nearly finished, is it not?" "It is quite finished. They went into it three weeks ago." "It promised to be a very good house, though rather of the _nouveaux riches_ order of architecture," he proceeded coolly; "and unfortunately it is impossible to manufacture trees, without which the best house looks bald and naked. But it stands well. It must be a very healthy situation; and that, after all, is the principal consideration." "I hope she will be happy in it," said Mrs. Reade. Her soul rebelled against this mode of treating the question, and yet her efforts to divert the discussion into the channels that she had designed for it were absurdly feeble and futile. "I hope so, indeed," he replied gravely. "I suppose you see a great deal of her, do you not?" "Yes. I seldom miss a day without seeing her. Either I go to Toorak, or she comes here, or we meet somewhere about town. _I_ do whatever is in my power to help to make her happy." "It must be a happiness to you, too, to have her friendship and confidence in such a marked degree." "It is," said Mrs. Reade. "I--if you will excuse me--I will say good morning. Allow me to thank you very much for permitting me to call, and for your kind interest in my misfortunes--and in Mrs. Kingston's welfare. But the greatest service you can do her, Mrs. Reade, is to be silent yourself, and to discourage gossip in others, about anything that occurred either before or since her marriage in connection with me. I hope I do not seem discourteous in saying this--if so, pray forgive me. I speak to you frankly, because you are her friend. I am afraid she has not had many friends--there is the more reason that we who desire her welfare and happiness, should take every precaution against imperilling it by allowing any hint of these private matters to reach the ears of vulgar scandalmongers. A great crime has been done, for which if there is anything in the theory of retribution, some one will have to answer some day; but in the meantime our part is to take care that _she_ is spared as much difficulty and suffering as possible." "Yes, Mr. Dalrymple. That is what I think--that is what I was going to say." "I am sure you think so. I am sure you see that that is all we can do for her now. Good morning. I am much obliged to you for your kindness. It looks rather as if we were going to have a storm, does it not? The air is close and sultry, and the glass is falling very fast."