“No. At least I—. Marmaduke: I think you must fancy that I told him more than I did. I did not know where you were; and as he was going to London, and I thought you knew him well, and I had no other means of warning you, I had to make use of him. Jasper will tell you how thoroughly trustworthy he is. But all I said—and I really could not say less—was that I was afraid you were in bad company, or under bad influence, or something like that; and that I only wanted you to come down here at once.” “Oh! Indeed! That was _all_, was it? Merely that I was in bad company.” “I think I said under bad influence. I was told so; and I believed it at the time. I hope it’s not true, Marmaduke. If it is not, I beg your pardon with all my heart.” Marmaduke stared very hard at her for a while, and then said, with the emphasis of a man baffled by utter unreason: “Well, I _am_ damned!” at which breach of good manners she winced. “Hang me if I understand you, Marian,” he continued, more mildly. “Of course it’s not true. Bad influence is all bosh. But it was a queer thing to say to his face. He knew very well you meant his sister. Hallo! what’s the matter? Are you going to faint?” “No, I—Never mind me.” “Never mind you!” said Marmaduke. “What are you looking like that for?” “Because—it is nothing: I only blushed. Dont be stupid, Duke.” “Blushed! Why dont you blush red, like other people, and not green? Shall I get you something?” “No, no. Oh, Duke, why did you not tell me? How could you be so heartless as to leave us all in the dark when we were talking about you before him every day! Oh, are you in earnest, Duke? Pray dont jest about it. What do you mean by his sister? I never knew he had one. Who is she? What happened? I mean when you saw him?” “Nothing happened. I was mowing in the garden. He just walked in; bade me good morning; admired the place; and told me he came with a message from you that things were getting hot here. Then he went off, as cool as you please. He didnt seem to mind.” “And he warned you, in spite of all.” “More for your sake than for mine, I suspect. He’s rather sweet on you, isnt he?” “Oh, Duke, Duke, are you not ashamed of yourself?” “Deuce a bit. But I’m in trouble; and I want you to stand by me. Look here, Marian, you have no nonsense about you, I know. I may tell you frankly how I am situated, maynt I?” Marian looked at him apprehensively, and said nothing. “You see you will only mix up matters worse than before unless you know the truth. Besides, I offered to marry her: upon my soul I did; but she refused. Her real name is Susanna Conolly: his sister, worse luck.” “Dont tell me any more of this, Duke. It is not right.” “I suppose it’s not right, as you say. But what am I to do? I must tell you; or you will go on making mischief with Constance.” “As if I would tell her! I promise that she shall never know from me. Is that enough?”