But he hesitated. Her voice was tired, even tremulous, and he was aware as he looked across at her that her emotions now treated her more severely than they had once done. At the same time he was aware that giving free play to her temper always did her good. "Well--perhaps--another day----" "No--now. I may as well take my scoldings together--it saves time!" He stood up and, leaning on the mantelpiece with one arm, looked down upon her. "Here," he said, "I'm afraid I may seem doubly impertinent, but it's a matter that is closer to me than anything in the world. You know that I'm a lonely old bachelor and that all those sentiments that you accuse me of must find some vent somewhere. I'm fonder of Rachel, I think, than I am of anyone in the world, and it's only that affection and the feeling that, in some ways, I know her better than any of you do that give me courage to speak." He could see that now she was reaching the limits of her patience. "Well--what of Rachel?" "I understand--I know--that you--that all of you intend that she shall marry young Seddon----" "Well?" "I know that it is impertinent of me, but, as I have said, I think I know Rachel differently from anyone else in the world. She is strange--curiously ignorant of life in many ways, curiously wise in others. Her simplicity--the things that she takes on trust--there is no end to it. The things, too, that she cannot forgive--she doesn't know how often, later on, she will have to forgive them-- "But the first man who breaks her trust----" "Thank you for this interesting light on Rachel's character. What does it mean?" "It means," he said abruptly, "that she mustn't be hurt. Your Grace may turn me out of the house here and now if you will, but Seddon is the wrong man for her to marry----" "What are his crimes?" Her voice was rising, and her hand tapped impatiently on her dress. "I know him only slightly, but common repute--anyone who is in the London world at all will tell you--his reputation is bad. I've nothing against him myself, but his affairs with women have been many. He is no worse, I dare say, than a thousand others. At least he's young--and I myself, God knows, am no moralist. But to marry him to Rachel will be a crime." He knew as he heard his own voice drop that the scene that he dreaded was upon him. The air was charged with it. In the strangest way everything in the room seemed to be changed because of it. The furniture, the dragons, the tables, the very trifles of gold and silver, seemed to withdraw, leaving the air weighted with passion. She was trembling from head to foot. Her voice was very low. "You've gone too far. What business is this of yours? How dare you come to me with these tales? How dare you? You've taken too much on your shoulders. See to your own house, Doctor----" He stepped back from the fireplace. "Please--to-morrow----"