Sir James suddenly threw out a restless foot, which caught Lady Lucy's fox terrier, who was snoozing under the tea-table. He hastily apologized, and the speaker resumed: "But, in my opinion, she would do a far nobler thing if she regarded herself as bound to some extent to bear her mother's burden--to pay her mother's debt to society. It may sound harsh--but is it? Is a dedicated life necessarily an unhappy life? Would not everybody respect and revere her? She would sacrifice herself, as the Sister of Mercy does, or the missionary, and she would find her reward. But to enter a family with an unstained record, bearing with her such a name and such associations, would be, in my opinion, a wrong and selfish act!" Lady Lucy drew herself to her full height. In the dusk of the declining afternoon the black satin and white ruffles of her dress, her white head in its lace cap, her thin neck and shoulders, her tall slenderness, and the rigidity of her attitude, made a formidable study in personality. Sir James's whole soul rose in one scornful and indignant protest. But he felt himself beaten. The only hope lay in Oliver himself. He rose slowly from his chair. "It is useless, I see, to try and argue the matter further. But I warn you: I do not believe that Oliver will obey you, and--forgive me Lady Lucy!--but--frankly--I hope he will not. Nor will he suffer too severely, even if you, his mother, desert him. Miss Mallory has some fortune--" "Oliver will not live upon his wife!" "He may accept her aid till he has found some way of earning money. What amazes me--if you will allow me the liberty of an old friend--is that you should think a woman justified in coercing a son of mature age in such a matter!" His tone, his manner pierced Lady Lucy's pride. She threw back her head nervously, but her tone was calm: "A woman to whom property has been intrusted must do her best to see that the will and desires of those who placed it in her hands are carried out!" "Well, well!"--Sir James looked for his stick--"I am sorry for Oliver--but"--he straightened himself--"it will make a bigger man of him." Lady Lucy made no reply, but her expression was eloquent of a patience which her old friend might abuse if he would. "Does Ferrier know? Have you consulted him?" asked Sir James, turning abruptly. "He will be here, I think, this afternoon--as usual," said Lady Lucy, evasively. "And, of course, he must know what concerns us so deeply." As she spoke the hall-door bell was heard. "That is probably he." She looked at her companion uncertainly. "Don't go, Sir James--unless you are really in a hurry."