“But, Horace,” said Kate, who had joined her brother and sister, as they stood, the one philosophising and the other listening disconsolately, in the midst of the much-reprobated family furniture,--“but, Horace, tell me about Arthur. We are to call this afternoon on dear Sophy. Mamma seems terribly afraid of being over-civil; and it seems a little bit unbrotherly of Atty not to have come last night to see us, so many months as it is since he and Sophy married. But I suppose it’s out of sight out of mind with them.” And Kate, laughter-loving Kate, heaved a little sigh as she quoted the well-worn proverb. “Nonsense, it’s nothing of the kind; but women are so awfully fond of jumping at conclusions. Arthur would have been here fast enough, if he had hoped that any good could come of his putting himself in Lady Mill’s way; but it wouldn’t, and that is a truth, poor fellow, that he has not got at this time of day to learn.” “But, Horace dear, _do_ tell me what it is all about! I should have thought that marrying Sophy Duberly would have put everything to rights. The old man seemed so very fond of Atty, and Sophy, too. I should have imagined that all would have gone smoothly with poor Arthur when once he was one of them--once he was Sophy’s husband; and a baby coming besides, which Mr. Duberly was so anxious for. Really, Horace, I am puzzled, and that is the truth. You always talk as if something dreadful was hanging over Arthur’s head, and--” “Do I? Then I am a fool for not being able to keep my own and other people’s counsel. But,” lowering his voice, although Rhoda, who knew herself to be less trusted by her brother than his younger sister Kate, had discreetly walked away,--“there is no use in talking about it. Have you seen--” “But, Horace, there _may_ be use in talking about it,” interposed his sister. “We might do something, if we were able to put our heads together, to get Arthur out of his trouble. Union is strength, they say; and though the bundle of sticks is a pretty tough one--” “And will therefore take time to break,” put in Horace sadly, “which is precisely the reason why there is no use trying to do it; for time is everything to Atty. If you knew old Duberly as well as I do, Kate, you would say the same.” “But what has Mr. Duberly to do with it?” asked Kate. “Everything. If anything should happen, which isn’t the least likely, to old Dub, all would be smooth as velvet for Arthur; but as it is--” “As it is! O, do go on, Horace; how provoking you are!” “Well, as it is--But here comes milady. I say, Katie, not a word! But I needn’t repeat that to you, for, considering you are of the feebler sex, you are one of the most reliable young persons with whom I happen to be acquainted.” CHAPTER XIX. LE PREMIER PAS.