"If you think that I wouldn't give up this whole show to-morrow"--he waved his hand toward the marble forecourt outside, now glistening in the sun--"for--for Enid--you never made a greater mistake in your life, Corry!" There was a bitter and passionate accent in the voice which carried conviction. Coryston's expression changed. "Unfortunately, it wouldn't help you with--with Enid--to give it up," he said, quietly. "Miss Glenwilliam, as I read her--I don't mean anything in the least offensive--has a very just and accurate idea of the value of money." A sort of impatient groan was the only reply. But Lester raised his head from his book. "Why don't you see what Miss Coryston can do?" he asked, looking from one to the other. "Marcia?" cried Coryston, springing up. "By the way, what are mother and Marcia after, this Sunday? Do you suppose that business is all settled by now?" He flung out a finger vaguely in the direction of Hoddon Grey. And as he spoke all the softness which had gradually penetrated his conversation with Arthur through all his banter, disappeared. His aspect became in a moment hard and threatening. "Don't discuss it with me, Coryston," said Lester, rather sharply. "Your sister wouldn't like it. I only mentioned her name to suggest that she might influence your mother in Arthur's case." He rose, and began to put up his papers as he spoke. "I know that! All the same, why shouldn't we talk about her? Aren't you a friend?--her friend?--our friend?--everybody's friend?" said Coryston, peremptorily. "Look here!--if Marcia's really going to marry Newbury!"--he brought his hand down vehemently on Lester's table--"there'll be another family row. Nothing in the world will prevent my putting the Betts' case before Marcia! I have already warned her that I mean to have it out with her, and I have advised Mrs. Betts to write to her. If she can make Newbury hear reason--well and good. If she can't--or if she doesn't see the thing as she ought, herself--well!--we shall know where we are!" "Look here, Corry," said Arthur, remonstrating, "Edward Newbury's an awfully good chap. Don't you go making mischief!" "Rather hard on your sister, isn't it?"--the voice was Lester's--"to plunge her into such a business, at such a time!" "If she's happy, let her make a thank-offering!" said the inexorable Coryston. "Life won't spare her its facts--why should we? Arthur!--come and walk home with me!" Arthur demurred, stipulated that he should not be expected to be civil to any of Coryston's Socialist lodgers--and finally let himself be carried off. Lester was left once more to the quiet of the library. "'I have advised Mrs. Betts to write to her!'"