Katharine's demeanour towards Gordon Frere was an unspeakable relief to Robert Streightley, whose first impulsive feeling on seeing Frere was dread of an explanation, which might lead to a discovery. His brief vision of happiness was dispelled by the sight of the young man's face, and he shrunk with a painful reluctance from the interchange of the ordinary civilities of society with one whom he had so deeply injured. In vain did he try to find relief in the remembrance of all that Katharine had gained by her marriage with him; in vain did he watch the happy _insouciance_, the heart-whole gaiety of Frere, and argue from them the lightness and instability of the sentiment with which he had regarded Katharine. His conscience was awake, and not any sophistry could lull it to sleep again. Mr. Guyon had been among the earliest of Gordon Frere's former acquaintances to hear of his abandonment of diplomatic life, and his return to London. He was aware of these circumstances before he received one of cousin Hetty's confidential little notes, in which she mentioned, in a tone of alarm and judicious warning, having seen Mr. Frere at Mrs. Pendarvis's ball. Mr. Guyon had met his young friend a day before that festivity; had joked with him pleasantly about his "butterfly" qualities; had congratulated him upon his return to the centre of civilisation; and had asked him whether he had met the Streightleys,--all with a pleasant impudence which Gordon Frere was fairly forced to admire, and found it impossible to resent. Mr. Guyon was not for a moment visited by the misgivings which had disturbed his more sensitive son-in-law; but he divined that Robert, for whom he entertained, in certain respects, a good-natured contempt, would be uncomfortable about Frere's return; and he resolved to console him, at the risk of offending his pride by the momentary revival of a subject never mentioned between them. Accordingly he dropped in to breakfast at Portland Place two days after the ball and the meeting, and found, as he expected, his son-in-law alone. "Katharine not down? Nothing wrong, I hope?" asked the affectionate parent. "O no; she is a little tired after the Opera and a couple of parties, and she is going to Richmond to-day; so she is resting this morning." "Indeed! very sensible of her. She stayed late at Mrs. Pendarvis's, didn't she?" "Yes," replied Robert, shortly and uneasily. Mr. Guyon looked at him, and their eyes met. "So Frere was there?" said the indomitable Mr. Guyon, as airily and pleasantly as if he were mentioning the most agreeable trifle. "Rather awkward, on the whole; and yet, I don't know--all for the best perhaps. He will probably marry well, and the sooner the better for him and for us." "For us?" asked Robert timidly. And there was a shade of pain, and something like shame on his face, which would have hurt a sensitive observer, but which merely annoyed Mr. Guyon, who found it difficult to repress a sneer, as he replied: