'Yes; he promised he would. He said that he knew all I said was true. That it wasn't my fault, that a woman couldn't be expected to respect a man who couldn't keep her, that he felt the shame of his position in the house, that it had broken his heart, that if he had lost his money it was not his fault, that the world was full of rogues, you know-- you've heard him go on.' 'I should think I had. I don't know how I put up with him. Very often it is as much as I can do to prevent myself from running out of the room.' Mrs. Lahens looked at her lover angrily. 'You don't think what I have to put up with. You come here when you like, you go away when you like.... Men are always the same, they only think of themselves. You don't think of me, you do not remember what I have put up with for your sake, of the sacrifices I have made for you. I should have left him years ago when he lost his money if it hadn't been for fear of compromising you.' 'He never would have divorced you. He'd have been left without a cent if he had, and he couldn't have got anything out of me.' 'Whatever my husband's faults are, he's not mercenary. There are many who think more of money and its advantages than he.' 'Now, what are you angry about, Olive?' and Lord Chadwick laid his hand on her shoulder. 'I don't like unjust accusations, not even against my husband. The Major is a fool, but he is not dishonourable; he is the most honourable man that comes to this house. It was not on account of my money that he did not divorce me.' 'On account of you, then.' 'Partly, strange as that may seem to you, and on account of his daughter.' Lord Chadwick did not answer. The conversation was taking a disagreeable turn, and as he looked into the fire he thought how he might change it. 'So Agnes returns home to-day?' 'Yes, her father insisted... She, poor dear, begged and prayed to be allowed to become a nun, but he would not listen to her any more than he would to me.... There was no use arguing.... You know what the Major is; you are never sure when he'll turn on you. If I opposed him he might come down some evening when there was a party, and inform my guests that I kept my daughter imprisoned in a convent, that I wouldn't let her out. No; I daren't oppose him on this point. Agnes must come home for a while. But the experiment won't succeed. I daresay you think so too. But for all that I'm right, as time will prove. A mother knows more about her own daughter than any one else, and I tell you that Agnes is no more fitted for the world than I am for a convent. I shall have to drag her about for a season or two. She won't succeed, and she'll be wretchedly unhappy. I shall be put to any amount of trouble and expense, that will be all.' 'And then?' 'I don't know. Even if I did give you up, I don't see what would be gained. All I could do would be to ask you not to come to the house any more.' 'That is nonsense.'