"They know what the world thinks, I'm afraid," answered Dibbin. "I am sure of that much. Yes, they know, they know. I have been with Mrs. Mordaunt a good many times, for one reason or another. I can tell how she feels, and I'm afraid that she not only guesses what the world thinks, but agrees with the world's view. On the other hand, I have reason to think that Miss Mordaunt has an obstinate faith in her sister, and neither believes that she died unmarried, nor even that she committed suicide. Well, well, you can't expect much clear reasoning from a poor sister with a head half turned with grief." Dibbin tossed off his brandy, while David paced the room, his hands behind him, with a clouded brow. "Have they no protector, these women?" he asked. "Isn't Miss Mordaunt engaged?" "I fancy not," said the agent. "In fact, I think I can say undoubtedly not. She was not engaged before the death of her sister, I am certain; and this disaster of her sister appears to have inspired the poor girl with such a detestation of the whole male sex--" "Do you happen to know who a certain Mr. Van Hupfeldt is?" asked David. "Van Hupfeldt, Van Hupfeldt? No, never heard of him. What of him?" "He seems to be a pretty close friend of the Mordaunts, if I am right." "He may be a close friend, and yet a new one," said Dibbin, "as sometimes happens. Never heard of him, although I thought that I knew the names of most of Mrs. Mordaunt's connections, either through herself or her solicitors." "But to go back to this Strauss," said David. "Do you mean to say that neither the mother nor Miss Mordaunt ever once saw him?" "Not once that they know of." "Then, how did he get hold of Gwendoline?" "That's the question. It is suspected that he met her in the hunting-field, persuaded her to meet him secretly, and finally won her to fly from home. To me this is quite credible; for I've seen Johann Strauss twice, and each time have been struck with the thought how fascinating this man must be in the eyes of a young woman!" "What was he like, then, this Mr. Johann Strauss of the flourishy signature?" "A most handsome young man," said Mr. Dibbin, impressively; "hard to describe exactly. Came from the States, I think, or had lived there--had just a touch of the talk, perhaps--of Dutch extraction, I take it. Handsome fellow, handsome fellow; the kind of man girls throw themselves over precipices after: teeth flashing between the wings of his black mustache--tall, thin man, always most elegantly dressed--dark skin--sallow--" At that word "sallow," David started, the description of Johann Strauss had so strangely reminded him of Van Hupfeldt! But the thought that the cause of the one sister's undoing should be friendly with the other sister, paying his court to her over the grave of the ill-fated dead, was too wild to find for itself a place all at once in the mind.