"Does she know anything?" asked the Colonel, throwing down the morning paper which he had been reading and settling himself for a talk. Vernon nodded. "I saw her yesterday. She sent to ask me what had become of Constantine. I was obliged to tell her." "Do you think that was kind or wise?" "I think so, decidedly. It was better that Mrs. Bedge should learn the truth from a friend than see it crudely printed in the daily papers. And there it is bound to appear sooner or later." "Drench will have to catch The Spider first," said the Colonel coolly. "No easy task, as we know. What did she say?" "At first she declined to believe it, badly as Maunders has treated her. She kept insisting that it was all a mistake and that Constantine would appear to put matters right." "What wonderful faith these women have, Vernon." "Bless them, yes. They go by their hearts entirely." "In that case," remarked Towton drily, "Mrs. Bedge must have known that Maunders is not the saint she tries to make him out to be." "I did not say that she went by her instinct," replied Vernon equally drily; "there is a difference between that and heart-love. Because Constantine is her sister's child and her adopted son Mrs. Bedge's heart, which he has almost broken, cherishes him fondly; but her instinct must have told her long ago that the fellow is a scamp of the worst sort." "He's a thorough-paced scoundrel," said the Colonel vigorously. "Mrs. Bedge declined to take that view of him. She wailed that he had a tender heart and was led away because he had a weak nature. In fact, her defence was that of a man being his own worst enemy." "Maunders certainly was. He had all the gifts of the gods, yet----" "Yet fell because the greatest gift of honest purpose was not given," finished Vernon. "Hang it all, Towton, scamp as the fellow is, I am sorry for him." "I'm not," growled Towton savagely. "Ah, you did not play with him as a child, nor did you go to school with him, my friend. Although I'm bound to say that Constantine was always a selfish chap--what you would call a rotter." "I would call him nothing of the sort, Vernon. I detest slang." "That's a mistake. Slang frequently hits the nail on the head when the King's English misses it altogether. Slang conveys much in little, and----" "Oh, the deuce take your philology. Go on talking about Mrs. Bedge." "There's no more to say. Maunders has pretty well drained her, but she has enough to live on, and the Hampstead house is her own. Towards the end of our conversation, however, she let out that she was not surprised at Conny's behaviour, as she rather expected it." "H'm! Somewhat contradictory. Why?" "Well, it seems that Maunders' father, the Greek, Mavrocordato, you know, was rather a bad egg himself. He worried his wife--Mrs. Bedge's sister, that is--into her grave, and swindled his partner before he committed suicide." "I never heard that before."