Hubert rose, a little ashamed of himself, and went to the door and closed it; and then drew out a chair for his aunt, and put a wine-glass for her. "Sit down, aunt," he said, and pushed the decanter towards her. "I have just left Isabel," she said, "she is very unhappy about something. You saw her this evening, dear lad?" "Yes," said Hubert, heavily, looking down at the table and taking up another nut, "and it is of that that I have been speaking. Who has made her unhappy?" "I had hoped you would tell us that," said Mistress Margaret; "I came up to ask you." "My son has done us--me--the honour----" began Lady Maxwell; but Hubert broke in: "I left Isabel here last Christmas happy and a Protestant. I have come back here now to find her unhappy and half a Catholic, if not more--and----" "Oh! are you sure?" asked Mistress Margaret, her eyes shining. "Thank God, if it be so!" "Sure?" said Hubert, "why she will not marry me; at least not yet." "Oh, poor lad," she said tenderly, "to have lost both God and Isabel." Hubert turned on her savagely. But the old nun's eyes were steady and serene. "Poor lad!" she said again. Hubert looked down again; his lip wrinkled up in a little sneer. "As far as I am concerned," he said, "I can understand your not caring, but I am astonished at this response of yours to her father's confidence!" Lady Maxwell grew white to the lips. "I have told you," she began--"but you do not seem to believe it--that I have had nothing to do, so far as I know, with her conversion, which"--and she raised her voice bravely--"I pray God to accomplish. She has, of course, asked me questions now and then; and I have answered them--that is all." "And I," said Mistress Margaret, "plead guilty to the same charge, and to no other. You are not yourself, dear boy, at present; and indeed I do not wonder at it; and I pray God to help you; but you are not yourself, or you would not speak like this to your mother." Hubert rose to his feet; his face was white under the tan, and the ruffle round his wrist trembled as he leaned heavily with his fingers on the table. "I am only a plain Protestant now," he said bitterly, "and I have been with Protestants so long that I have forgotten Catholic ways; but----" "Stay, Hubert," said his mother, "do not finish that. You will be sorry for it presently, if you do. Come, Margaret." And she moved towards the door; her son went quickly past and opened it. "Nay, nay," said the nun. "Do you be going, Mary. Let me stay with the lad, and we will come to you presently." Lady Maxwell bowed her head and passed out, and Hubert closed the door. Mistress Margaret looked down on the table. "You have given me a glass, dear boy; but no wine in it." Hubert took a couple of quick steps back, and faced her.