“I am glad you allow that,” said Lady Brotherton, a little piqued. She was rather fond herself of finding fault with her country folks, but she did not like it in other people; and the Vice-Consul went away with his mind in a considerable ferment, wondering if now he was about to penetrate the mystery of his son-in-law’s antecedents. The idea that he knew nothing about them had given him a prick now and then through all these years; but Harry had never betrayed himself. He had not done so, for the good reason that all his young life had disappeared from him like a mist, and that honestly he never thought of it, or felt tempted to make any reference to it. His marriage had taken place while the Vice-Consul was still in a weak state of health, for the results of his illness had lasted long, though the seizure itself was over: and in all those happy quiet years Harry’s heart had been so full and his mind had been so occupied that he had scarcely thought of the possibility of being called upon some day to roll away the stone from the grave of the past. And a sort of honourable hesitation had moved the Vice-Consul; he had accepted the stranger as he was; ought he to enter into discussion of his rights and wrongs now, and perhaps be compelled to condemn him, though he was so good? Now, however there seemed a prospect of a clearing up. “I should like to know who he is; before I die, I should like to know the rights of it,” Mr. Bonamy said to himself. “I was so glad you were not here, my dear,” Lady Brotherton said to Lydia. “It appears that this Mr. Oliver has said nothing to the Bonamys about his family. He has allowed it to be supposed that they were people of importance. How they could be so foolish as to let Rita marry him without knowing all about him I can’t imagine; but that is just what has been done. Now, my love, I want to warn you; be on your guard. Be on your guard, Lionel. It was very wrong of the young man to do it, but it’s no business of ours; and they’re married now, and can’t be separated, you know; and Mr. Bonamy has not a word but praise to say of him. Be on your guard; I have no right to speak; I as nearly as possible let it out myself. I said my young people thought they knew Mr. Oliver’s family; but afterwards I assured him that this was mere conjecture, and that I didn’t think there was anything in it. So, my dears, both of you be on your guard.” “I shall not betray him, mother; but all the same it is a shabby business. The fellow must be a cad to do it,” Lionel said.