‘She has got him at last, then,’ said Roger with contempt. ‘And now I think of it, that will be an advantage to me, for she can never have anything more to say to my little girl, and there will be an end to an intimacy which I have always detested.’ ‘Yes, you are right to be glad of that. Hers is not a friendship I should desire for any woman in whom I was interested.’ ‘The wicked always gain their ends,’ said Roger, unguardedly. ‘I did hope she would never succeed in catching him, so far as I hoped anything about it.’ ‘She is not so fortunate, even from her point of view, as you suppose,’ said Gilbert, tranquilly. ‘She has certainly got what she aimed at, but sadly deteriorated from what it was when she first began to scheme for it, and with it she has got a lot of other things thrown in, which she could well have dispensed with. If she were any one else I should feel sorry for her.’ ‘You say that what she schemed for is deteriorated; now, excuse my saying it, but how is it that you too cling to that man? That is a thing which I have been wondering ever since you came here this year.’ Gilbert’s face changed a little. ‘I suppose it must be unaccountable to many another, as well as to you,’ he said. ‘I can only say that it is because he was true to me, in his way, long ago, when I had other hopes and other ambitions than I have now. He was not afraid to declare that he was my friend, and that whoever spoke against me, insulted him. It would conduce greatly to my comfort and peace of mind, if I could forget that; but I cannot. So my relations to him are defined, not by my present opinion of him, but by his conduct towards me in former days. Other things happened at that time; I know it is useless to speak to you of it, but he stood my friend when no one else would have done. Otho Askam is my Old Man of the Sea. We all have one of some kind, and it seems to me that the best thing to do with them is to carry them quietly as long as one’s strength holds out.’ ‘You say it is useless to speak to me of that past time. But, since we have got so far below the surface in our talk, there is one thing I would like to tell you, without any prejudice to my friendship with Michael. You sent a note to him one day.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘He gave it to me to read at the time.’ ‘Yes?’ ‘I urged him to take a day to consider the matter, and I have always felt that you were wronged by his refusing to do so. But his own wrongs at that time were so incomparably greater than yours, and his heart was so broken, that I have always condoned the fault, though I was sorry for it. Now you know all.’ ‘I am glad you have told me. His heart was so broken, you say,’ said Gilbert, speaking with an evident effort. ‘I did not dare to think of anything connected with him, then. He—is he—do you think it would be a breach of confidence to let me know something of his circumstances?’ ‘I am afraid he would think so. He does not even know I am meeting you.’