“Oh, if you could only hear yourself, mamma! You are not generally a Philistine, I must say that for you; but if you only heard the tone in which you said ‘comfortable establishment!’ the most conventional match-making in existence could not have done it better; and as for what has been said, there has nothing been said but what is said about everybody--what, probably, would be said of you yourself, John, for you play whist sometimes, I hear, and often billiards, at the club.” A half-audible “God forbid!” had come from John’s lips when she said, “What would probably be said of yourself”--audible that is to Elinor, not to the mother. She sprang up as this murmur came to her ear: “Oh, if you are going to prejudge the case, there is nothing for me to say!” “I should be very sorry to prejudge the case, or to judge it all,” said John. “I am too closely interested to be judicial. Let somebody who knows nothing about it be your judge. Let the accusations be submitted--to your Rector, say; he’s a sensible man enough, and knows the world. He won’t be scared by a rubber at the club, or that sort of thing. Let him inquire, and then your mind will be at rest.” “There is only one difficulty, John,” said Mrs. Dennistoun. “Mr. Hudson would be the best man in the world, only for one thing--that it is from his sister and his wife that the warning came.” “Oh!” said John. This fact seemed to take him aback in the most ludicrous way. He sat and gazed at them, and had not another word to say. Perhaps the fact that he himself who suggested the inquiry was still better informed of the true state of the case, and of the truth of the accusation, than were those to whom he might have submitted it, gave him a sense of the hopelessness and also absurdity of the attempt more than anything else could have done. “And that proves, if there was nothing else,” said Elinor, “how false it is: for how could Mrs. Hudson and Mary Dale know? They are not fashionable people, they are not in society. How could they or any one like them know anything of Phil”--she stopped quickly, drew herself up, and added--“of Mr. Compton, I mean?” “They might not know, but they might state their authority,” Mrs. Dennistoun said; “and if the Rector cannot be used to help us, surely, John, you are a man of the world, you are not like a woman, unacquainted with evidence. Why should not you do it, though you are, as you kindly say, an interested party?” “He shall not do it. I forbid him to do it. If he takes in hand anything of the kind he must say good-by to me.” “You hear?” said John; “but I could not do it in any case, my dear Elinor. I am too near. I never could see this thing all round. Why not your lawyer, old Lynch, a decent old fellow----” “I will tell him the same,” cried Elinor; “I will never speak to him again.” “My dear,” said her mother, “you will give everybody the idea that you don’t want to know the truth.”