Acute distress is somewhat impervious to satire. "Of course not, sir," said Mr. Ledstone, mopping his face forlornly. "But what's to be done? There's no real harm in the boy. He's young----" "If you wish to imply that my wife is mainly in fault, you're entirely welcome to any comfort you and your family can extract from that assumption." Ledstone set his hands on the table between them, and looked plaintively at Maxon. He was disconcerted and puzzled; he fancied that he had not made himself, or the situation, fully understood. He brought up his strongest artillery--the most extraordinary feature in the case. "The boy actually suggests that he should bring your--that he should bring Mrs.--that he should bring the lady to see Mrs. Ledstone and my daughter!" He puffed out this crowning atrocity with quick breaths, and mopped his face again. "You're master in your own house, I suppose? You can decide whom to receive, Mr. Ledstone." He pushed his chair back a little; the movement was unmistakably a suggestion that his visitor should end his visit. Mr. Ledstone did not take the hint. "I suppose you'll--you'll institute proceedings, Mr. Maxon?" "I'm not a believer in divorce." "You won't?" "I said I was not a believer in divorce." Growing exasperation, hard held, rang in his voice. A visible relief brightened Mr. Ledstone's face. "You won't?" he repeated. "Oh, well, that's something. That gives us time at all events." Maxon smiled--not genially. "I don't think you must assume that your son and the lady who now calls herself Mrs. Ledstone will be as much pleased as you appear to be." "Oh, but if there are no proceedings!" murmured Ledstone. Then he ventured a suggestion. "Private influence could be brought to bear?" "Not mine," said Cyril Maxon grimly. "Still, you don't propose to take proceedings!" He munched the crumb of comfort almost affectionately. Cyril Maxon sought refuge in silence; not to answer the man was probably the best way to get rid of him--and he had defined his attitude twice already. Silence reigned supreme for a minute or two. "I suppose my wife and daughter must know. But as for the rest of the family----" Mr. Ledstone was discussing his personal difficulties. Maxon sat still and silent as a statue. "It may all be patched up. He'll see reason." He glanced across at Maxon. "But I mustn't keep you, Mr. Maxon." He rose to his feet. "If there are no proceedings----" Maxon sharply struck the handbell on his table; Gibbons opened the door. "Thank you. Good morning, Mr. Maxon." Maxon's silence was unbroken as his visitor shuffled out.