Colonel Halkett vowed he was under no penal law to listen, and would not; but Captain Baskelett persuaded him: “Yes, here it is: I give you my word. Apparently old Nevil has been standing up for every man’s right to run away with... Yes, really! I give you my word; and here we have Shrapnel insisting on respect for the marriage laws. Do hear this; here it is in black and white:—‘Society is our one tangible gain, our one roofing and flooring in a world of most uncertain structures built on morasses. Toward the laws that support it men hopeful of progress give their adhesion. If it is martyrdom, what then? Let the martyrdom be. Contumacy is animalism. And attend to me,’ says Shrapnel, ‘the truer the love the readier for sacrifice! A thousand times yes. Rebellion against Society, and advocacy of Humanity, run counter. Tell me Society is the whited sepulchre, that it is blotched, hideous, hollow: and I say, add not another disfigurement to it; add to the purification of it. And you, if you answer, what can only one? I say that is the animal’s answer, and applies also to politics, where the question, _what can one?_ put in the relapsing tone, shows the country decaying in the individual. Society is the protection of the weaker, therefore a shield of women, who are our temple of civilization, to be kept sacred; and he that loves a woman will assuredly esteem and pity her sex, and not drag her down for another example of their frailty. Fight this out within you—!’ But you are right, colonel; we have had sufficient. I shall be getting a democratic orator’s twang, or a crazy parson’s, if I go on much further. He covers thirty-two pages of letter-paper. The conclusion is:—‘Jenny sends you her compliments, respects, and best wishes, and hopes she may see you before she goes to her friend Clara Sherwin and the General.’” “Sherwin? Why, General Sherwin’s a perfect gentleman,” Colonel Halkett interjected; and Lord Palmet caught the other name: “Jenny? That’s Miss Denham, Jenny Denham; an amazingly pretty girl: beautiful thick brown hair, real hazel eyes, and walks like a yacht before the wind.” “Perhaps, colonel, _Jenny_ accounts for the defence of society,” said Captain Baskelett. “I have no doubt Shrapnel has a scheme for Jenny. The old communist and socialist!” He folded up the letter: “A curious composition, is it not, Miss Halkett?” Cecilia was thinking that he tempted her to be the apologist of even such a letter. “One likes to know the worst, and what’s possible,” said the colonel. After Captain Baskelett had gone, Colonel Halkett persisted in talking of the letter, and would have impressed on his daughter that the person to whom the letter was addressed must be partly responsible for the contents of it. Cecilia put on the argumentative air of a Court of Equity to discuss the point with him. “Then you defend that letter?” he cried.