"I do not mean to say that young men ought to do all these things, whatever they are,--getting into debt, and betting, and living fast. Of course it is very wrong. But when a young man has been brought up in that way, I do think he ought not to be thrown over by his nearest and dearest friends"--that last epithet was uttered with all the emphasis which Emily could give to it--"because he falls into temptation." "I am afraid George has been worse than others, Emily." "So much the more reason for trying to save him. If a man be in the water, you do not refuse to throw him a rope because the water is deep." "But, dearest, your papa is thinking of you." Lady Elizabeth was not quick enough of thought to explain to her daughter that if the rope be of more value than the man, and if the chance of losing the rope be much greater than that of saving the man, then the rope is not thrown. "And I am thinking of George," said Emily. "But if it should appear that he had done things,--the wickedest things in the world?" "I might break my heart in thinking of it, but I should never give him up." "If he were a murderer?" suggested Lady Elizabeth, with horror. The girl paused, feeling herself to be hardly pressed, and then came that look upon her brow which Lady Elizabeth understood as well as did Sir Harry. "Then I would be a murderer's wife," she said. "Oh, Emily!" "I must make you understand me, Mamma, and I want Papa to understand it too. No consideration on earth shall make me say that I will give him up. They may prove if they like that he was on all the racecourses in the world, and get that Mrs. Stackpoole to swear to it;--and it is ten times worse for a woman to go than it is for a man, at any rate;--but it will make no difference. If you and Papa tell me not to see him or write to him,--much less to marry him,--of course I shall obey you. But I shall not give him up a bit the more, and he must not be told that I will give him up. I am sure Papa will not wish that anything untrue should be told. George will always be to me the dearest thing in the whole world,--dearer than my own soul. I shall pray for him every night, and think of him all day long. And as to the property, Papa may be quite sure that he can never arrange it by any marriage that I shall make. No man shall ever speak to me in that way, if I can help it. I won't go where any man can speak to me. I will obey,--but it will be at the cost of my life. Of course I will obey Papa and you; but I cannot alter my heart. Why was he allowed to come here,--the head of our own family,--if he be so bad as this? Bad or good, he will always be all the world to me." To such a daughter as this Lady Elizabeth had very little to say that might be of avail. She could quote Sir Harry, and entertain some dim distant wish that Cousin George might even yet be found to be not quite so black as he had been painted. CHAPTER XV. COUSIN GEORGE IS HARD PRESSED.