"For God's sake, don't!--you will spoil her happiness for ever. To you and me, who must have some knowledge of the world, it ought to be a small thing that a man has made a fool of himself about an actress. We ought to know for how little that kind of folly counts in a lifetime. But for a girl brought up like Christabel it will mean disenchantment--doubt--perhaps a lifetime of jealousy and self-torment. For mercy's sake, be reasonable in this matter! I am talking to you as if I were Christabel's father, remember. I suppose that old harridan, Lady Cumberbridge, told you this precious story. Such women ought to be put down by Act of Parliament. Yes, there should be a law restricting every unattached female over five-and-forty to a twenty-mile radius of her country-house. After that age their tongues are dangerous." "My friend Lady Cumberbridge told me facts which seem to be within everybody's knowledge; and she told them at my particular request. Your rudeness about her does not make the case any better for Mr. Hamleigh, or for you." "I think I had better go and dine at my club," said the Major, perfectly placid. "No, stay, please. You have proved yourself a broken reed to lean upon; but still you are a reed." "If I stay it will be to persuade you to spare Belle the knowledge of this wretched story." "I suppose he has almost ruined himself for the creature," said Mrs. Tregonell, glancing at the subject for the first time from a practical point of view. "He spent a good many thousands, but as he had no other vices--did not race or gamble--his fortune survived the shock. His long majority allowed for considerable accumulations, you see. He began life with a handsome capital in hand. I dare say Miss Mayne sweated that down for him!" "I don't want to go into details--I only want to know how far he deceived us?" "There was no deception as to his means--which are ample--nor as to the fact that he is entirely free from the entanglement we have been talking about. Every one in London knows that the affair was over and done with more than a year ago." The two girls came down to the drawing-room, and dinner was announced. It was a very dismal dinner--the dreariest that had ever been eaten in that house, Christabel thought. Mrs. Tregonell was absorbed in her own thoughts, absent, automatic in all she said and did. The Major maintained a forced hilarity, which was more painful than silence. Jessie looked anxious. "I'll tell you what, girls," said Major Bree, as the mournful meal languished towards its melancholy close, "we seem all very doleful without Hamleigh. I'll run round to Bond Street directly after dinner, and see if I can get three stalls for 'Lohengrin.' They are often to be had at the last moment."