The old gentleman’s voice, when he continued, was more subdued, less proud. And has it not been already remarked that Mr. Maturin did not like to see the descent from pride to humility? which, had he had any part of virtue, he should have taken for a sign of grace, even as it is written in the Scriptures. But maybe he did not notice the slight tremor that played in that proud old voice before it could be subdued, for at the moment he was intent on examining his patent-leather shoes, which were exquisite examples of Lobb’s later manner. Sir Guy was saying: “My grandson, you corrupted. My granddaughter, you have sed----” “Dear!” cried Mrs. de Gramercy. Mr. Maturin was quite silent, examining his shoes. “Perhaps that was too harsh a word,” the old gentleman conceded--he conceded! “It was,” said Beau Maturin softly. “Much.” Now Sir Guy’s voice was so low as to be barely audible, while his eyes were as though enchanted by the monogram on his paper-knife. “I was carried beyond my intention, Mr. Maturin. I apologise, to you and to the child’s mother. But I have had a day that I would not wish for my bitterest enemy. I am very old, Mr. Maturin. Peace, comfort, heart’s ease, have lately assumed an importance which only a few years ago I would have disdained to allow them. Was it essential to you, Capel Maturin, to pilfer my granddaughter from me?” “But why do you say ‘pilfer,’ sir? Am I not allowed to be like any other man, to make love?” “Men,” said old Sir Guy, “did not, I thought, make love to young girls. Bankrupts, I am sure, should not. And a man who has been a corespondent in two notorious divorce cases--he _cannot_! Mr. Maturin, it is not that I wish to insult you wantonly, but----” “I quite understand, Sir Guy. Let us, after all, face the facts.” “Yes. My granddaughter has just come of age--and, incidentally, into her fortune. You, I believe, are forty or so----” “Ah, those confounded facts! Forty-seven.” “I must say they become you very lightly. But, even so, there is a grave disparity of age between you and the child; and, Mr. Maturin, there is an even graver disparity of everything else. By Heaven, man, how could you, how could any man like you, have so blinded yourself to all the decencies of life as to put yourself in the way of a girl like my granddaughter!” “I’m positively damned if I know!” murmured Mr. Maturin. “But these things happen. They just happen, Sir Guy.” Sir Guy at last looked up from the shine of the paper-knife; and pressing down with his knuckles on the writing-table as though to steady himself, said: “Mr. Maturin, to-day I have had the greatest shock of my life. My granddaughter told me she was going to marry you.” “A brave girl!” said Mr. Maturin softly. The old gentleman’s voice trembled. “Man, you cannot be serious!” “I can be in love!” said Mr. Maturin coldly. “Love!” cried the lady in the shadows.