"Oh dear no. It is quite out of her line. She is not at all disposed to lay aside the feeblenesses of her sex and go into one of the learned professions. By the bye, I am afraid you and she are not very good friends." "What makes you say that, Captain De Baron?" "But are you?" "I don't know why you should enquire." "It is natural to wish that one's own friends should be friends." "Has Miss Mildmay said--anything about--me?" "Not a word;--nor you about her. And, therefore, I know that something is wrong." "The last time I saw her I did not think that Miss Mildmay was very happy," said Mary, in a low voice. "Did she complain to you?" Mary had no answer ready for this question. She could not tell a lie easily, nor could she acknowledge the complaint which the lady had made, and had made so loudly. "I suppose she did complain," he said, "and I suppose I know the nature of her complaint." "I cannot tell;--though, of course, it was nothing to me." "It is very much to me, though. I wish, Lady George, you could bring yourself to tell me the truth." He paused, but she did not speak. "If it were as I fear, you must know how much I am implicated. I would not for the world that you should think I am behaving badly." "You should not permit her to think so, Captain De Baron." "She doesn't think so. She can't think so. I am not going to say a word against her. She and I have been dear friends, and there is no one,--hardly any one,--for whom I have a greater regard. But I do protest to you, Lady George, that I have never spoken an untrue word to Augusta Mildmay in my life." "I have not accused you." "But has she? Of course it is a kind of thing that a man cannot talk about without great difficulty." "Is it not a thing that a man should not talk about at all?" "That is severe, Lady George;--much more severe than I should have expected from your usual good nature. Had you told me that nothing had been said to you, there would have been an end of it. But I cannot bear to think that you should have been told that I had behaved badly, and that I should be unable to vindicate myself." "Have you not been engaged to marry Miss Mildmay?" "Never." "Then why did you allow yourself to become so--so much to her?" "Because I liked her. Because we were thrown together. Because the chances of things would have it so. Don't you know that that kind of thing is occurring every day? Of course, if a man were made up of wisdom and prudence and virtue and self-denial, this kind of thing wouldn't occur. But I don't think the world would be pleasanter if men were like that. Adelaide Houghton is Miss Mildmay's most intimate friend, and Adelaide has always known that I couldn't marry." As soon as Mrs. Houghton's name was mentioned a dark frown came across Lady George's brow. Captain De Baron saw it, but did not as yet know anything of its true cause. "Of course I am not going to judge between you," said Lady George, very gravely.