"Oh, Lord, what are we let in for? What will be the result, if he prosecutes? It may be utter ruin.... I know nothing of these things. Of course, in justice nothing could be done to us--for, after all, what harm have we done? Anyone may insert advertisements for pay, and it only amounted to that.... But justice isn't taken into much account in the law-courts.... It is a horrible, cast-iron system--the relic of a barbarous age.... I don't know what we mayn't be in for, or how we shall come out of it. You don't know either, Peter; you know nothing of law--nothing. It mustn't come into court; that is unthinkable. We will make full apologies--any restitution within our power that Lord Evelyn demands.... I shall go there; I shall see him about it, and appeal to his better feelings. He has been a friend of mine. He has always been good to you, Peter. The memory of your mother.... Appeal to that. You must go to him and see what can be done. Yes, it had better be you; he has a kinder feeling for you, I believe, than for me." "He has no kind feeling for me," said Peter dully. "He is more annoyed with me than with you." Hilary jerked his head impatiently. "Nonsense. You want to shirk; you want to leave me to get out of the mess for myself. Oh, of course, you're not legally involved; I am aware of that; you can leave the sinking ship if you choose, and save yourself." Peggy said, "Don't be ridiculous, darling. Peter's doing his best for us, as he always has," and came and stood at her brother-in-law's side, kind and big and comforting, with a hand on his arm. Hilary went on querulously, "I'm asking Peter to do a simple thing--to use his friendship with the Urquharts to help me out of this mess. If you don't want to see Lord Evelyn, Peter, you can go to Denis. He's a friend of yours; he's--he's your kind of step-brother. You can easily persuade him to get the thing hushed up. You've always pretended that he was a friend of yours. Go and see him, then, for heaven's sake, and help us all out of this miserable predicament." Peter was still silent, staring down at the dark ribbon of shining water that lapped against two old brick walls, a shut lane full of stars. Peggy, her hand on his arm, said gently, "Oh, Peter'll do his best for us, of course he will, won't you, Peter." Peter sighed very faintly into the dark night. "I will do anything I can, naturally. It won't be much, you know." "You will go to the Urquharts to-morrow morning, and appeal to them?" said Hilary. "Yes," said Peter. "I will do that." Hilary breathed a sigh of relief, and flung himself into a chair. "Thanks, Peter. I believe that is the best we can do. You will persuade them at least to be just, not to push the matter to unfair extremes.... _Oh, my God, what a life!_" His beautiful, unhappy face was hidden in his hands; he shuddered from head to foot, feeling horribly sick. The Margerison organism was sensitive.