"I did not for a moment believe that it would. However, let us take the career first. This is how I look at it. If the marriage went forward, there would no doubt be some scandal and excitement at first, when the truth was known. But Oliver's personality and the girl's charm would soon live it down. In this strange world I am not at all sure it might not in the end help their future. Oliver would be thought to have done a generous and romantic thing, and his wife's goodness and beauty would be all the more appreciated for the background of tragedy." Lady Lucy moved impatiently. "Sir James--I am a plain person, with plain ideas. The case would present itself to me very differently; and I believe that my view would be that of the ordinary man and woman. However, I repeat, that is not what I think of first--by any means." "You think of the criminal taint?--the risk to Oliver--and to Oliver's children?" She made a sign of assent. "Character--and the protection of character--is not that what we have to think of--above all--in this world of temptation? We can none of us afford to throw away the ordinary helps and safeguards. How can I possibly aid and abet Oliver's marriage with the daughter of a woman who first robbed her own young sister, in a peculiarly mean and cruel way, and then committed a deliberate and treacherous murder?" "Wait a moment!" exclaimed Sir James, holding up his hand. "Those adjectives, believe me, are unjust." "I know that you think so," was the animated reply. "But I remember the case; I have my own opinion." "They are unjust," repeated Sir James, with emphasis. "Then it is really the horror of the thing itself--not so much its possible effect on social position and opinion, which decides you?" "I ask myself--I must ask myself," said his companion, with equal emphasis, forcing the words: "can I help Oliver to marry the daughter--of a convicted murderess--and adulteress?" "No!" said Sir James, holding up his hand again--"_No!"_ Lady Lucy fell back in her chair. Her unwonted color had disappeared, and the old hand lying in her lap--a hand thin to emaciation--shook a little. "Is not this too painful for us both, Sir James?--can we continue it? I have my duty to think of; and yet--I cannot, naturally, speak to you with entire frankness. Nor can I possibly regard your view as an impartial one. Forgive me. I should not have dreamed of referring to the matter in any other circumstances." "Certainly, I am not impartial," said Sir James, looking up. "You know that, of course, well enough." He spoke in a strong full voice. Lady Lucy encountered a singular vivacity in the gray eyes, as though the whole power of the man's personality backed the words. "Believe me," she said, with dignity, and not without kindness, "it is not I who would revive such memories." Sir James nodded quietly.