“Madame Roche is very well,” said Cosmo, with assumed indifference, “her eldest daughter is married, and has long been deserted by her husband; but I don’t know his name--they never mention it. Madame Roche is ashamed of him; they were people of very good family, in spite of what my mother says--Roche de St. Martin--but I sent you word of all this long ago. It is little use repeating it now.” “Why should Pierrot be _her_ husband, of all men in the world?” said Huntley; “but if he’s not wanted at Melmar, you had better send the ladies word of your suspicions, and put them on their guard.” “I have been there this morning,” said Cosmo, slightly confused by his own admission. “This morning? you certainly have not lost any time,” said Huntley, laughing. “Never mind, Cosmo, I said I should ask nothing you did not want to tell me; though why you should be so anxious to keep her husband away from the poor woman--How have they got on at Melmar? Have they many friends? Are they people to make friends? They seem at least to be people of astonishing importance in Norlaw.” “My mother,” said Cosmo, angrily, “dislikes Madame Roche, and consequently every thing said and done at Melmar takes an evil aspect in her eyes.” “My boy, that is not a tone in which to speak of my mother,” said Huntley, with gravity. “I know it!” cried the younger brother, “but how can I help it? it is true they are my friends. I confess to that; why should they not be my friends? why should I reject kindness when I find it? As for Marie, she is a selfish, peevish invalid, I have no patience with her--but--Madame Roche--” Cosmo made a full stop before he said Madame Roche, and pronounced that name at last so evidently as a substitute for some other name, that Huntley’s curiosity was roused; which curiosity, however, he thought it best to satisfy diplomatically, and by a round-about course. “I must see her to-morrow,” he said; “but what of our old friend, Melmar, who loved us all so well? I should not like to rejoice in any man’s downfall, but _he_ deserved it, surely. What has become of them all?” “He is a poor writer again,” said Cosmo, shortly, “and Joanna--it was Joanna who brought Desirée here.” “Who is Desirée?” asked Huntley. “I ought to say Miss Roche,” said Cosmo, blushing to his hair. “Joanna Huntley and she were great friends at school, and after the change she was very anxious that Joanna should stay. _She_ is the youngest, and an awkward, strange girl--but, why I can not tell, she clings to her father, and is a governess or school-mistress now, I believe. Yes, things change strangely. They were together when I saw them first.” “They--them! you are rather mysterious, Cosmo. What is the story?” asked his brother.