He was glad to have Worthing to consult with. Among all his numerous friends there was none to whom he would have preferred to unburden himself. Sometimes a man of middle-age, whose friendships are for the most part founded on old associations, comes across another man with whom it is as easy to become intimate as it used to be with all and sundry in youth: and when that happens barriers fall even more easily than in youthful friendships. Grafton had found such a man in Worthing. He was impatient for his arrival. He was so unused to bearing mental burdens, and wanted to share this one. Caroline had brought him little comfort. He did not think of her, as he waited for Worthing to come in; while she, riding home with Barbara and Bunting, and exerting herself to keep them from suspecting that there was anything wrong with her, was thinking of nobody but him. He told Worthing what he had come to tell him the moment he came in. He remembered that fellow Lassigny who had stayed with them at Whitsuntide. Well, he had had a letter from Beatrix to say that she was engaged to him. He was very much upset about it. He had wired to Beatrix to come home at once. Worthing disposed his cheerful face to an expression of concern, and said, "Dear, dear!" in a tone of deep sympathy. But it was plain that he did not quite understand why his friend should be so upset. "I never expected anything of the sort," said Grafton. "He ought to have come to me first; or at least she ought to have asked my permission before announcing that she'd engaged herself to him. I suppose she's told everybody up there. I'm going to have her home." "She's very young," said Worthing tentatively. "I wouldn't have minded that if he had been the right sort of fellow. How can I let a girl of mine marry a Frenchman, Worthing?" Lunch was announced at that moment. Worthing took Grafton up to his room to wash his hands, and he expressed his disturbance of mind and the reasons for it still further until they came downstairs again, without Worthing saying much in reply, or indeed being given an opportunity of doing so. It was not until they were seated at lunch and the maid had left the room that Worthing spoke to any purpose. "Well, of course, you'd rather she married an Englishman," he said. "And I suppose it's a bit of a shock to you to find that she wants to marry anybody, as young as she is. But do you know anything against this chap? He isn't a wrong 'un, is he? You rather talk as if he were. But you had him down here to stay. You let him be just as friendly with the girls as anybody else." He spoke with some decision, as if he had offered enough sympathy with a vague grievance, and wanted it specified if he was to help or advise as to a course to be taken. It was what Caroline had been trying to get at, and had not been able to.