A pause in the talk gradually lingered into silence. Gerard, at the head of the table, near Irene, manipulated his pipe, which had become choked and would not draw. Hugh, at the side, half turning towards the fire, leaned back in his chair, and, with hands clasped behind his head, stared at the ceiling. Irene suddenly spoke: “How are the Harts?” Hugh started into a more normal posture. “The Harts? They flourish. Have you ever heard of a Jew money-lender who didn’t?” There was an unwonted touch of acerbity in his tone that brought a quick glance from Irene. “They are not both money-lenders,” she remarked. “Oh, Minna--she is right enough.” “I’m sorry for the poor girl,” said Irene. “I wish she would let me be a friend to her, but she won’t. I wonder why.” “What do you want to worry about her for?” asked her husband, between the whiffs of his newly regulated pipe. “I pity her so.” “Some people don’t like being pitied. I don’t.” “But you are not a pretty girl cut by society,” insisted Irene. “She’s proud, you know,” said Hugh. He might have adduced a reason much nearer home. As it was, he gave a hint of it. “The moon, Irene, pales as a matter of course before the sun; but it’s an open question whether the moon likes it.” “You are talking rubbish,” said Irene, calmly. Gerard broke into a laugh. “Anyway, I’m glad she hasn’t cottoned to you. I don’t like Jews about the place. To your tents, O Israel!” Irene flashed up. “You can’t object to the poor girl just because she is a Jewess!” “Of course not, my dear,” replied her husband, with a curious change of tone. “I was only joking.” Irene came behind his chair and put her hand on his shoulder. “Forgive me, dear,” she said. He nodded, and patted the back of her hand magnanimously; then pushed his chair away from the table and rose to his feet, stretching himself after the manner of burly men. “I’m off to the smoking-room to make up some trout casts. You two can come when you’ve finished the discussion.” When he had gone Irene took his vacated seat. “The girl seems so lonely. That’s why I take an interest in her.” Hugh lit a cigarette and replied vaguely. Irene noticed a lack of enthusiasm, and attributed it to a lack of interest. There was a short silence. “Is anything the matter?” she said at last. “Why should there be?” “You are not yourself to-night. You have been working too hard and want a change. Why not go down to Weston’s to-morrow with Gerard to fish?” “Gerard hasn’t asked me.” “As if that were necessary. I’ll tell him at once you are going.” “Oh, no,” he laughed. “I’m not to be regulated in that fashion. I’m not overworked. I’m as strong as a horse. If you want to know what I was thinking about, I’ll tell you--more or less. I remembered it was just six years ago to-day when I first saw you after your marriage.” She looked meditatively towards the fire, a smile upon her lips.