"Of course; and then the whole of it must have gone against the grain with her. You bear it like an angel." "For myself, I don't know that I have anything to bear." "The whole thing is so dreadful. There are you and your dear wife,--everything just as it ought to be,--idolized by your mother, looked up to by the whole country, the very man whom we wish to see the head of such a family." "Don't talk in that way, Mrs. Houghton." "I know it is very distant; but still, I do feel near enough related to you all to be justified in being proud, and also to be justified in being ashamed. What will they do about calling upon her?" "My brother will, of course, come to my mother first. Then Lady Sarah and one of her sisters will go over. After that he will bring his wife to Cross Hall if he pleases." "I am so glad it is all settled; it is so much better. But you know, Lord George,--I must say it to you as I would to my own brother, because my regard for you is the same,--I shall never think that that woman is really his wife." Lord George frowned heavily, but did not speak. "And I shall never think that that child is really Lord Popenjoy." Neither did Lord George in his heart of hearts believe that the Italian woman was a true Marchioness or the little child a true Lord Popenjoy; but he had confessed to himself that he had no adequate reason for such disbelief, and had perceived that it would become him to keep his opinion to himself. The Dean had been explicit with him, and that very explicitness had seemed to impose silence on himself. To his mother he had not whispered an idea of a suspicion. With his sisters he had been reticent, though he knew that Lady Sarah, at any rate, had her suspicions. But now an open expression of the accusation from so dear a friend as Mrs. Houghton,--from the Adelaide De Baron whom he had so dearly loved,--gratified him and almost tempted him into confidence. He had frowned at first, because his own family was to him so august that he could not but frown when anyone ventured to speak of it. Even crowned princes are driven to relax themselves on occasions, and Lord George Germain felt that he would almost like, just for once, to talk about his brothers and sisters as though they were Smiths and Joneses. "It is very hard to know what to think," he said. Mrs. Houghton at once saw that the field was open to her. She had ventured a good deal, and, knowing the man, had felt the danger of doing so; but she was satisfied now that she might say almost anything. "But one is bound to think, isn't one? Don't you feel that? It is for the whole family that you have to act." "What is to be done? I can't go and look up evidence." "But a paid agent can. Think of Mary. Think of Mary's child,--if she should have one." As she said this she looked rather anxiously into his face, being desirous of receiving an answer to a question which she did not quite dare to ask. "Of course there's all that," he said, not answering the question.