“That’s it, you may be sure,” she said; “he is ashamed of his people. He is a son or a nephew or something of your old man, and he doesn’t want it to be known; very natural. He must have kept it a secret from Mr. Bonamy--who never would have let Rita marry him if he had known. Well, I am almost glad it is that, and nothing worse. I thought you had made an impression upon him, Liddy, my dear. I thought his eyes would have leapt out of his head when he saw you. Of course, I saw in a moment there was something; but this explains it. Dear, dear, what a sad thing for the Bonamys if it ever comes to be known! You must take the greatest care, both of you, not to betray him. Now, remember--not a word,” Lady Brotherton said, making as though she would have put her soft, plump, white hand first on one mouth and then on another. Nevertheless, when Mr. Bonamy himself came in later, she could not help telling him that “my young people” knew, they supposed, some of Mr. Oliver’s friends. But Lady Brotherton was very sorry when she saw with how much interest a statement which she thought too vague to do any harm was received. “My dear lady,” the Vice-Consul cried, “they know more than I do if they know his friends. He is the best fellow in the world and the best son, and the most excellent husband that ever was; but I fear the world in general would think me very imprudent. I know nothing about his family, except that he quarrelled with them, and made a vow never to return till he had made his fortune. Well, I don’t know where he will do that--not in the service of H.B.M. He has settled down here with me, and we are all very comfortable, and it was no small comfort to me to find an English husband for Rita who would not insist upon taking her to England. It was all settled,” said Mr. Bonamy, “when I was so ill. I believed I was going to die, and so did everybody else; and to provide for my Rita was all I thought of. Well, I have nothing to regret. He makes her an excellent husband, and she is as happy as the day is long; and I don’t know what I should do without him. Still I allow it was rash, for I know nothing about his friends.” “When a man has proved himself to be all that,” said Lady Brotherton, in alarm, “it does not matter much about his family.” “Well, no--perhaps not,” said the Vice-Consul, doubtfully. “But I have always taken it for granted they were people of some importance,” he added, elevating his head. “He speaks like a man with good blood in his veins; he has all the prejudices of a man of some family. I don’t think I can be mistaken in that; but I have never had the least clue to who they were. I should be quite glad to hear something about them from your young people.”