“My dear, it’s simply this: when Andrew Carstyle married her years ago--Heaven knows why he did; he’s one of the Albany Carstyles, you know, and she was a daughter of old Deacon Ash of South Millbrook--well, when he married her he had a tidy little income, and I suppose the bride expected to set up an establishment in New York and be hand-in-glove with the whole Carstyle clan. But whether he was ashamed of her from the first, or for some other unexplained reason, he bought a country-place and settled down here for life. For a few years they lived comfortably enough, and she had plenty of smart clothes, and drove about in a victoria calling on the summer people. Then, when the beautiful Irene was about ten years old, Mr. Carstyle’s only brother died, and it turned out that he had made away with a lot of trust-property. It was a horrid business: over three hundred thousand dollars were gone, and of course most of it had belonged to widows and orphans. As soon as the facts were made known, Andrew Carstyle announced that he would pay back what his brother had stolen. He sold his country-place and his wife’s carriage, and they moved to the little house they live in now. Mr. Carstyle’s income is probably not as large as his wife would like to have it thought, and though I’m told he puts aside, a good part of it every year to pay off his brother’s obligations, I fancy the debt won’t be discharged for some time to come. To help things along he opened a law office--he had studied law in his youth--but though he is said to be clever I hear that he has very little to do. People are afraid of him: he’s too dry and quiet. Nobody believes in a man who doesn’t believe in himself, and Mr. Carstyle always seems to be winking at you through a slit in his professional manner. People don’t like it--his wife doesn’t like it. I believe she would have accepted the sacrifice of the country-place and the carriage if he had struck an attitude and talked about doing his duty. It was his regarding the whole thing as a matter of course that exasperated her. What is the use of doing something difficult in a way that makes it look perfectly easy? I feel sorry for Mrs. Carstyle. She’s lost her house and her carriage, and she hasn’t been allowed to be heroic.” Vibart had listened attentively. “I wonder what Miss Carstyle thinks of it?” he mused. Mrs. Vance looked at him with a tentative smile. “I wonder what _you_ think of Miss Carstyle?” she returned, His answer reassured her. “I think she takes after her mother,” he said. “Ah,” cried his aunt cheerfully, “then I needn’t write to _your_ mother, and I can have Irene at all my parties!”