‘It would be a misfortune, as well as a folly, for a man of my stamp to admire such a girl as that,’ he told himself; ‘but I may allow myself to be amused by her.’ A minute afterwards Edward Clare came up to him, and took him by the arm. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘what passed between you and Treverton?’ ‘A good deal, yet it amounts to very little. I am sorry for him.’ ‘Then you do not believe that he killed his wife?’ ‘I don’t know. It is a profound mystery. I should advise you to let things take their own course. What good will it do for you to make that poor wife of his miserable? If he is guilty, punishment will come sooner or later. If he is innocent, it would be a hard thing for you to persecute him.’ ‘What, do you suppose I am such a milksop as to let him go on his way unquestioned? I, who have loved Laura, and lost her? Suppose him even innocent of the murder--which is more than I am ready to believe,--he is guilty of a cruel fraud upon his present wife, of an impudent fraud upon the trustees to Jasper Treverton’s estate, of whom my father is one. He has no more right to yonder Manor House than I have. His marriage with Laura Malcolm is no marriage. Am I to hold my peace, knowing all this?’ ‘To reveal what you know will be to break Mrs. Treverton’s heart, and to reduce her to beggary. Hardly the act of a friend.’ ‘I may give her pain, but I shall not reduce her to beggary. She has a small income of her own.’ ‘And the Manor House estate will be devoted to the creation of an hospital.’ ‘Those are the conditions of Jasper Treverton’s will.’ ‘As a professional man I am bound to rejoice; but as a mere human being I can’t help feeling sorry, for Mrs. Treverton. She seems devoted to her husband.’ ‘Yes,’ answered Edward, ‘he has contrived to hoodwink her; but perhaps when she knows that John Treverton is Jack Chicot, the ballet-dancer’s husband, she will be disenchanted.’ Gerard made no reply. He began to understand that personal malignity was the mainspring of Edward’s anxiety to let in the light upon John Treverton’s secret. He was almost sorry that he had lent his aid to the discovery; yet he had ardently desired that justice should be done upon La Chicot’s murderer. It was only since his recent conversation with John Treverton that his opinion as to the husband’s guilt had begun to waver. He was haunted all the rest of the day by uncomfortable thoughts about the master of Hazlehurst Manor and his fair young wife; thoughts so uncomfortable as to prevent his enjoyment of Celia’s lively company, which had all the charm of novelty to a man whose youth had not been brightened by girlish society, and whose way of life had been dull, and hard, and laborious. He was to go back to London next morning by the first train, and although the Vicar pressed him to remain, and even Celia put in a kindly word, he stuck to his intention.