She suddenly rose from her chair, a tall, imposing figure, then moved closer to him, and looked imploringly down into the wrinkled, impassive face. 'I have thought that you, perhaps, would consent to speak to Sir George Downing? I know it is asking much of your old friendship for us.' Mr. Gumberg coughed. He moved uneasily in his chair. 'In such a matter,' he began, 'one man can scarcely interfere with another man's business. Supposing I do as you wish, can we expect Downing to draw back now, if she--Penelope--has made up her mind to go on? Would you have him put on her so mortal an affront?' Lady Wantley only looked at him bewildered. Such sophistry was not for her. 'But from the point of view of Sir George Downing's own life and career,' she said falteringly, 'I understand--indeed, Penelope herself has told me--that the one object of his life for many years past has been to rehabilitate himself. Could you not point out to him how greatly this would injure him with those whose good opinion he wishes to retain? Think of what all my husband's old friends and colleagues will feel;' and he saw that her hands were trembling. Mr. Gumberg looked at Lady Wantley consideringly. He was surprised that she had brought herself to think over the matter from so practical a point of view. She had again sat down, and was gazing at him in a collected, earnest manner. 'He has weighed all that, depend upon it,' he said shortly. 'No, no! with such a man as George Downing one must appeal to something higher than self-interest. We must realize--it's no use blinking the fact--that we are now dealing, or attempting to deal, with a feeling none the less strong because you and I happen to have no sympathy with it--or perhaps I should say, as regards myself, have outlived it.' He waited a moment, then concluded deliberately: