"I don't want to talk any more about all the dreadful things you've been doing," said Marcia, with sisterly dignity. "I know it wouldn't be any good. But there's one thing I must say. I do beg of you, Corry, not to say a word to mamma about--about Arthur and Enid Glenwilliam. I know you were at the Atherstones on Saturday!" The anxiety in the girl's face seemed to give a softer shade to its strong beauty. She went on, appealingly: "Arthur's told me a lot. He's quite mad. I've argued--and argued with him--but it's no good. He doesn't care for anything--Parliament, mamma, the estates, anything--in comparison with that girl. At present she's playing with him, and he's getting desperate. But I'm simply in _terror_ about mamma!" Corry whistled. "My dear, she'll have to know some time. As you say, he's in it, head over ears. No use your trying to pull him back!" "It'll kill her!" cried Marcia, passionately; "what's left of her, after you've done!" Coryston lifted his eyebrows and looked long and curiously at his sister. Then he slowly got up from the grass and took a seat beside her. "Look here, Marcia, do you think--do you honestly think--that I'm the aggressor in this family row?" "Oh, I don't know--I don't know what to think!" Marcia covered her face with her hands. "It's all so miserable!--" she went on, in a muffled voice. "And this Glenwilliam thing has come so suddenly! Why, he hardly knew her, when he made that speech in the House six weeks ago! And now he's simply demented! Corry, you must go and argue with him--you _must_! Persuade him to give her up!" She laid her hand on his arm imploringly. Coryston sat silent, but his eyes laughed a little. "I don't believe in her," he said at last, abruptly. "If I did, I'd back Arthur up through thick and thin!" "_Corry_!--how on earth can Arthur be happy if he marries her--how can he live in that set--the son-in-law of _that man_! He'll have to give up his seat--nobody here would ever vote for him again. His friends would cut him--" "Oh come, come, my dear, we're not as bad as that!" said Coryston, impatiently. But Marcia wailed on: "And it isn't as if he had ideas and theories--like you--" "Not a principle to his back!--I know," said Coryston, cheerfully. "I tell you again, I'd not dissuade him; on the contrary, I'd shove him into it!--if she were the right sort. But she's not. She's ruined by the luxury she's been living in. I believe--if you ask me--that she'd accept Arthur for his money--but that she doesn't care one brass farthing about him. Why should she?" "Corry!" "He's a fool, my dear, though a jolly one--and she's not been accustomed to living with fools. She's got wits as sharp as gimlets. Well, well"--he got up from the seat--"can't talk any more now. Now what is it exactly you want me to do? I repeat--I'm coming to see mother this afternoon."