‘No, I saw him. He stayed with the others. But I have something more to tell you, about--about him.’ ‘About Alfred?’ ‘About Mr. Eldon.’ Adela looked at her friend with a grave surprise, much as a queen regards a favourite subject who has been over-bold. ‘I think we won’t talk of him, Letty,’ she said from her height. ‘Do forgive me, Adela. I have promised toto say something. There must have been a great many things said that were not true, just like this about his marriage; I am so sure of it.’ Adela endeavoured to let the remark pass without replying to it. But her thought expressed itself involuntarily. ‘His marriage? What do you know of it?’ ‘Mr. Wyvern came to see mother this morning, and showed her a newspaper that your mother gave him. It said that Mr. Eldon was going to marry an actress, and Mr. Wyvern declared there was not a word of truth in it. But of course your mother told you that?’ Adela sat motionless. Mrs. Waltham had not troubled herself to make known the vicar’s contradiction. But Adela could not allow herself to admit that. Binding her voice with difficulty, she said: ‘It does not at all concern me.’ ‘But your mother _did_ tell you, Adela?’ Letty persisted, emboldened by a thought which touched upon indignation. ‘Of course she did.’ The falsehood was uttered with cold deliberateness. There was nothing to show that a pang quivered on every nerve of the speaker. ‘Who can have sent such a thing to the paper?’ Letty exclaimed. ‘There must be someone who wishes to do him harm. Adela, I don’t believe _anything_ that people have said!’ Even in speaking she was frightened at her own boldness. Adela’s eyes had never regarded her with such a look as now. ‘Adela, my darling! Don’t, don’t be angry with me!’ She sprang forward and tried to put her arms about her friend, but Adela gently repelled her. ‘If you have promised to say something, Letty, you must keep your promise. Will you say it at once, and then let us talk of something else?’ Letty checked a tear. Her trustful and loving friend seemed changed to someone she scarcely knew. She too grew colder, and began her story in a lifeless way, as if it no longer possessed any interest. ‘Just when I had had tea and was expecting Alfred to come, somebody rang the bell. I went to the door myself, and it was Mr. Eldon. He had come to speak to me of you. He said he wanted to see you, that he _must_ see you, and begged me to tell you that. That’s all, Adela. I couldn’t refuse him; I felt I had no right to; he spoke in such a way. But I am very sorry to have so displeased you, dear. I didn’t think you would take anything amiss that I did in all sincerity. I am sure there has been some wretched mistake, something worse than a mistake, depend upon it. But I won’t say any more. And I think I’ll go now, Adela.’ Adela spoke in a tone of measured gravity which was quite new in her.