“I speak as I find, ma mère,” said the young man, shrugging his shoulders. “It is nothing to us if this man may have been a good boy at one time. You may charitably suppose, if you like, that he has been crossed in love, or unfortunately married------ Ah! that reminds you, I see, of his _tendresse_ for Mistress Forest. Since it moves you so deeply, you must look that matter in the face, Lady Lisgard, and very soon, if you wish to keep Mary. If something about this fellow pleases Walter, you need not wonder that it has fascinated your waiting-maid.” “Is it this fancy of his, then, think you, which alone keeps him here at Mirk?” asked my Lady, who had started for a moment as though stung, but was now once more looking thoughtfully at the river. “No. Being totally without anchorage in the world, the cable-strand of a partnership in a race-horse at present at Chifney's stables here holds him to the place where he can be near his property. His pecuniary affairs are, as I understand, bound up in that fourfooted creature, and beyond them he has nothing to look to. You who have all things settled about you, Lady Lisgard, with home, children, and friends, and from whom so many interests radiate, are doubtless unable to picture to yourself such a state of things. But if this man should marry Mistress Forest, and still keep his share in _Menelaus_, I should not be surprised if he were to take up his residence at Mirk altogether.” “God in his mercy forbid!” ejaculated my Lady, clasping her hands. “My dear Lady Lisgard!” cried the young man, in alarm at her emotion, “I am afraid I must have said something very foolish, to have frightened you about this fellow thus. After all, there is no harm done, and I may have been very wrong--as my mind misgives me, I have been very officious--in anticipating any harm.” “No, no,” cried my Lady, rocking herself to and fro; “your good sense has only told you Truth. Do not--do not forsake me, Arthur. I look to you not only for warning, but for succour. Are you sure that you have told me all? Is there no other reason besides those you have mentioned why this man, having lain in wait, and entrapped my Walter, should sit down before this house, and, as it were, besiege it thus?” “Well, Lady Lisgard,” returned the young man gravely, “there is, I fear, another reason; but it is one I am very loath to speak of----- Are you cold, _ma mère?_ I fear it is too early for this sitting by the river.” “No, Arthur, I am not cold. Why should you hesitate to tell me anything about this--this stranger?” “Because, Lady Lisgard, I respect you as though you were indeed my mother--as you have shewn towards me always a mother's love; and this matter in some sort concerns yourself.” “_Myself?_” whispered my Lady hoarsely. “No, not myself, good Arthur. What can there be in common between this man--whom I have never seen--and me?”