“That is right. I am so glad to hear you say that. But you can’t be too careful, you know. The world is so censorious. Society has very keen ears for the least whisper against a woman’s name.” This time Belle realized that there was some serious purpose beneath her persecutor’s moralizing. She turned on her indignantly. “I hope you don’t mean that society has been listening to any whispers against my name!” she cried. The marchioness put out her hands with a soothing gesture. “Oh, no--not yet, at all events. Still, as I say, you cannot be too careful in your unfortunate position. I thought I ought to take the opportunity of giving you a friendly warning. It is so easy to check a thing of this kind at the outset, but afterwards it may be too late.” “I am afraid I don’t understand you yet,” said Belle, in a carefully measured voice which would have betrayed the rising anger to a duller ear than the Marchioness of Severn’s. “Do you mean to say that there is anything for me to check?” The marchioness, becoming slightly nervous, tried to beat about the bush. “No, no; I won’t go so far as that. I don’t put it in that way--merely a possibility, that is all. Of course, it is very natural that the men who go to such places should admire you, with your voice and figure; only don’t let one particular man admire you more openly than the rest. You understand me?” Belle’s voice became cold and metallic. “Do you mean that there is some one whose name has been associated with mine as an admirer more than the rest?” The marchioness bowed and smiled. “That is just it. You have put it very nicely.” “May I ask you to tell me his name?” The marchioness threw a glance of mild reproach at her young friend. “Surely, my dear Miss Yorke, you must know that! Every one tells me that his attentions have been most marked--Mr. Hammond.” The marchioness brought out the name with a jerk, watching her victim keenly the while. But Belle gave her no assurance, by so much as the flutter of an eyelid, that the shaft had gone home. “Mr. Hammond’s attentions to me have always been perfectly respectful.” The marchioness positively bubbled over with shame at the implied suggestion that she had thought otherwise. “Of course! Naturally! But you _know_, my dear girl, that society will take a _very_ different view. Society is _so_ incredulous. It _never_ believes that a man’s friendship for a woman is perfectly respectful.” “Not when he asks her to become his wife?” Belle could not resist the question. “That is quite different.” The marchioness suddenly became the great lady. “We are not talking of that, as you know. Mr. Hammond is not one of those foolish young men who marry a girl out of their own class and regret it ever afterwards. You must put that idea out of your head at once, believe me. I am speaking as your friend and as a woman of the world.” Belle looked at her friend for a moment with a silence that had something satirical in it.