Edwin Fennel, the son of Colonel Fennel, was stationed in India with his regiment for several years. He got on well enough, but was not much liked by his brother officers: they thought him unscrupulous and deceitful. All at once, something very disagreeable occurred, which obliged Captain Fennel to quit her Majesty's service. The affair was hushed up, out of consideration to his family and his father's long term of service. "In fact, I believe he was allowed to retire, instead of being cashiered," added the major, "but I am not quite sure which it was." "What was it that occurred--that Captain Fennel did, to necessitate his dismissal?" questioned Lavinia. "I don't much like to mention it," said the major, shaking his head. "It might get about, you see, Miss Preen, which would make it awkward for him. I have no wish, or right either, to do the man a gratuitous injury." "I promise you it shall not get about through me," returned Lavinia; "my sister's being his wife will be the best guarantee for that. You must please tell me, Major Smith." "Well, Fennel was suspected--detected, in short--of cheating at cards." Lavinia drew a deep breath. "Do you know," she said presently, in an undertone, "that when I first met the man I shrank from his face." "Oh my! And it has such nice features!" put in Mrs. Smith, who was but a silly little woman. "There was something in its shifty look which spoke to me as a warning," continued Lavinia. "It did, indeed. All my life I have been able to read faces, and my first instinct has rarely, if ever, deceived me. Each time I have seen this man since, that instinct against him has become stronger." Major Smith took a sip at his schiedam. "I believe--between ourselves--he is just a mauvais sujet," said he. "He has a brother who is one, out and out; as I chance to know." "What is Edwin Fennel's income, major?" "I can't tell at all. I should not be surprised to hear that he has none." "How does he live then?" asked Lavinia, her heart going at a gallop. "Don't know that either," said the major. "His father is dead now and can't help him. A very respectable man, the old colonel, but always poor." "He cannot live upon air; he must have some means," debated Lavinia. "Lives upon his wits, perhaps; some men do. He wanted to borrow ten pounds from me a short time ago," added the major, taking another sip at his tumbler; "but I told him I had no money to lend--which was a fact. I have an idea that he got it out of Charley Palliser." The more Lavinia Preen heard of this unhappy case, the worse it seemed to be. Declining to stay for tea, as Mrs. Smith wished, she betook her miserable steps home again, rather wishing that the sea would swallow up Captain Fennel. The next day she saw Charles Palliser. Pouncing upon him as he was airing his long legs in the Grande Place, she put the question to him in so determined a way that Charley had no chance against her. He turned red.