One afternoon about a week later, Edward Ambrose rang up No. 50, Queen Street, on the telephone to ask if Mary was at home. In reply he was told by Silvia that Mary had gone for a few days to Greylands to the Ellises, but her mother would be very glad if Edward would come and see her as she wished particularly to have a little talk with him. Edward certainly did not wish particularly to have a little talk with Lady Pridmore at that moment, but there was no way out of it. Thus in no very amiable frame of mind he drove to Queen Street. Lady Pridmore was alone in the drawing-room. She received Edward with the grave cordiality that she reserved for favorites. "It is very nice of you to come, Edward. Ring for some tea." That was like her, when she knew quite well he never took tea. "We are dreadfully worried about Mary." That was like her again. She was always dreadfully worried about something, although nothing in wide earth or high heaven had the power really to upset her. But Edward for some reason was not feeling very sympathetic towards the Lady Pridmores of the world just now. "And we blame you." "Me?" "Yes, we blame you. It was you who first brought that young man, Mr. Harper, to the house." This was not quite in accordance with the facts. Still, there would be no point in saying so. Ambrose, therefore, contented himself with asking, "Well, what of him?" with as much politeness as he could muster in order to cover a growing impatience. "It is not well, Edward, it is very far from well," said Lady Pridmore aggrievedly. "As I say, we are all dreadfully worried. Mr. Harper turned up here again one day last week, the first time for a year. And he saw Mary alone. Silvia and I were out--at--dear me!--but it doesn't matter----" "Quite so," murmured the courteous Edward. "Otto met him coming in as he went out." "Well?" "Well, as I say, Mary and Mr. Harper were together a long time and somehow--I'm sorry to tell you this--she has seemed quite ill ever since." Edward expressed regret. "And Dr. Claughton strongly advised a change." "I am very sorry," he said gravely. "She is so overstrung that she has had to have sleeping drafts. It is by Dr. Claughton's advice she has gone down to Woking." "But what reason have you to connect all this with Mr. Harper?" "The evening he saw her she didn't come down to dinner. Now I would like you to tell me a little more about--about Mr. Harper. You brought him here, you know. Otto says he is not altogether ... Do you think that?" "Had I thought for a moment that he was not a desirable acquaintance I should not have brought him here." This was a shameless begging of the question; it was not he who had brought the young man there. "I'm glad to hear you say that," said Lady Pridmore with feeling. "That is exactly what I said to Otto. I wish you would tell me all you know about this Mr. Harper." "I am afraid I can only tell you one thing about him."