All this was present in the back of John Randall's mind as he prepared to deal efficiently with the catastrophe. Having unbuttoned his coat and taken off his gloves with exasperating, slow, and measured movements, he fairly sat down to it at the table, preserving his very finest military air. The situation required before all things a policy. And the policy which most appealed to Mr. Randall, in which he showed himself most efficient, was the policy of a kindly hushing up. It was thus that for years he had dealt with his brother-in-laws' inebriety. Ranny's case, to be sure, was not quite so simple; still, on the essential point Mr. Randall had made up his mind--that, in the discussion that must follow, the idea of adultery should not once appear. If they were all of them as a family splashed more or less from head to foot with mud of a kind that was going to stick to them, why, there was nothing to be done but to cover it up as soon as possible. It was in the spirit of this policy that he approached his nephew. It involved dealing with young Mrs. Ransome throughout as a good woman who had become, somehow, mysteriously unfortunate. "I'm sorry to hear this about your wife, Randall. It's a sad business, a sad business for you, my boy." From her seat on the sofa beside Ranny's mother, Aunt Randall murmured inarticulate corroboration of that view. Ranny had remained standing. It gave him an advantage in defiance. "I've never heard anything," his uncle continued, heavily, "that's shocked and grieved me more." "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you, Uncle." At that Mr. Randall fumed a little feebly, thereby losing some of the fineness of his military air. It was as if his nephew had disparaged his importance, ignored his stake in the family's reputation, and as good as told him it was no business of his. "But I _must_ worry about it. _I_ can't take it like you do, as cool as if nothing had happened. Such a thing's never been known, never so much as been named in your mother's family, or your father's, either. It's--it's so unexpected." "I didn't expect it any more than you did." "You needn't take that tone, Randall, my boy. I'm sorry for you, but you're not the only one concerned. Still, I'm putting all that aside, and I'm here to help you." "You can't help me. How can you?" "I can help you to consider what's to be done." "There isn't anything to be done that I can see." "There are several things," said Mr. Randall, "that can be done." He said it as if he were counsel giving an opinion. "You can take her back; you can leave her alone; or you can divorce her. First of all I want to know one thing. Did you give her any provocation?" "What do you mean by provocation?" "Well--did you give her any cause for jealousy?" Ranny's mother struck in. "He wouldn't, John." And his Aunt Randall murmured half-audible and shocked negation. Ranny stared at his uncle as if he wondered where he was coming out next. "Of course I didn't."