Not only because he was so intimately connected with the Cramptons, and, undoubtedly, knew most of the family secrets, but also because Frederick had conceived an unaccountable aversion for him. He did not know _why_ himself. Henry Hindes had always been courteous and polite to him, far more so, indeed, than Mr Crampton, who invariably treated a Roman Catholic as if his religion were his own fault, and he was sinning every day that he didn’t change it. Hindes, on the contrary, had no scruples on the score of difference of faith, and no right to object to the young man because he courted Jenny Crampton. He had always spoken and behaved to him as one gentleman should to another, and yet Walcheren hated him. Now, as he accepted his hand and asked after his well-doing, he would have liked to strike him across his smooth, smiling face instead. Mr Hindes, having no idea that the young man was waiting to see Miss Crampton, had thought this would be an excellent opportunity for him to fulfil the promise made to his partner, and let Mr Walcheren know how utterly hopeless his suit was. ‘How are you, Walcheren?’ he said, cordially, as he came up with him. ‘You don’t mean to tell me you are going to eschew dancing to-night, when there are so many pretty girls doing “wallflowers”? I saw you look into the ballroom and disappear again, and wondered if you had found your way to a buffet and a whisky-and-soda. I shouldn’t mind following you if you have, for the night is very warm and I am very thirsty.’ ‘No, I had no such intention,’ answered Walcheren, in a tone of annoyance. ‘I fancy it is rather too early for that game. I came in here because I have a slight headache, and thought the cool and quiet might charm it away before I encountered the heat and glare of the ballroom.’ ‘To be sure, and I daresay it will. This is a charming place, though one cannot see much of the pictures by night. It is in semi-darkness. I do not suppose the Bouchers intend their guests to use it on such an occasion as this, or they would have it better lighted.’ ‘Perhaps not,’ replied Walcheren. ‘But I am an old friend of the family, and consider myself privileged to do as I like.’ ‘Oh! I am not finding fault with your decision, my dear fellow; on the contrary, I am very glad of the opportunity of a few words in private with you. It is not often that my wife can drag me out to a dance, and, to tell you the honest truth, I came here this evening expressly to see you.’ ‘To see _me_?’ echoed Walcheren in astonishment. ‘Why, what on earth can you have to say to me?’ ‘Nothing on my account, my dear friend, unless it were to tell you (what I hope you know) that I have always been pleased to welcome you to my house, and always shall be. But I am, as I think you are aware, a very intimate friend of Mr and Mrs Crampton, who were, indeed, the intimate friends also of my father before me, and who have known me almost from a child.’ ‘I know it,’ replied Frederick. ‘What of it?’