"Well, Elinor, there is no reason that there should be any harm in it. I would much rather he had some real business in hand than be merely a butterfly of fashion. You must not entertain that horror of city men." "The kind he knows are different from the kind you know, mamma." "I suppose everything is different from what it was in my time: but it need not be any worse for that----" "Oh, mother! you are obstinate in thinking well of everything; but sometimes I am so frightened, I feel as if I must do something dreadful myself--to precipitate the ruin which nothing I can do will stop----" "Elinor, Elinor, this is far too strong language----" "Mamma, he wants me to speak to you again. He wants you to give your money----" "But I have told you already I cannot give it, Elinor." "Heaven be praised for that! But he will speak to you himself, he will perhaps try to--bully you, mamma." "Elinor!" "It is horrible, what I say; yes, it is horrible, but I want to warn you. He says things----" "Nothing that he can say will make me forget that he is your husband, Elinor." "Ah, but don't think too much of that, mamma. Think that he doesn't know what he is doing--poor Phil, oh, poor Phil! He is hurried on by these people; and then it will break up, and the poor people will be ruined, and they will upbraid him, and yet he will not be a whit the better. He does not get any of the profit. I can see it all as clear---- And there are so many other things." Mrs. Dennistoun's heart sank in her breast, for she too knew what were the other things. "We must have patience," she said; "he is in his hey-day, full of--high spirits, and thinking everything he touches must go right. He will steady down in time." "Oh, I am not complaining," cried Elinor, hurriedly dashing her tears away; "if you were not a dreadfully good mamma, if you would grumble sometimes and find fault, that I might defend him! It is the sight of you there, seeing everything and not saying a word that is too much for me." "Then I will grumble, Elinor. I will even say something to him for our own credit. He should not come in so late--at least when he comes in he should come in to rest and not bring men with him to make a noise. You see I can find fault as much as heart could desire. I am dreadfully selfish. I don't mind when he goes out now and then without you, for then I have you; but he should not bring noisy men with him to disturb the house in the middle of the night. I think I will speak to him----" "No," said Elinor, with a clutch upon her mother's arm; "no, don't do that. He does not like to be found fault with. Unless in the case--if you were giving him that money, mother." "Which I cannot do: and Elinor, my darling, which I would not do if I could. It is all you will have to rely upon, you and----"