It galled me to hear her talk in such a strain. True, she had learnt it from me; but, just then, that made it none the better. 'Don't you think you're a trifle premature in marrying, and giving in marriage? He's not dead yet.' 'No, but he will be. I feel that he will be soon. You'll find that for once he's told the truth.' 'However that may be, I wish you wouldn't speak like that. It sounds a little inhuman. As if you anxiously anticipated his entering the fires of hell to enable you to enjoy the bliss of heaven.' She looked up at me with a naïve surprise. 'Douglas, what ever do you mean by that? Haven't you always counted on his death? And isn't he a wicked man?' 'Decency suggests that we should feign some sorrow even if we feel it not.' 'It suggests to me nothing of the kind. The moment the Marquis of Twickenham's death is announced I shall rejoice--for Reggie's sake, and yours.' 'I see. And not at all for your own?' 'Also a little for my own. And Edith. For all our sakes, indeed.' I had taken up my position before the fireplace: she planted herself in front of me. 'Douglas, what has come to you upon a sudden? Here's the news for which you have been waiting arrived at last, and you look as black as black can be, and speak so crossly that I hardly know you for yourself.' 'You arrive too rapidly at your conclusions. I have grown so weary of expecting what never comes that my sense of anticipation's dulled. The man's not died these fifteen years; why should he die now?' 'Because he says he's going to: and I tell you that, this time, what he says he means.' Turning aside, I looked down at the flaming coals. Her words and manner jarred on me alike. 'I don't like to think, and I don't like to know you think that, for us, the only hope of life is--death.' 'Douglas, what is the mood that's on you? Don't you want the man to die?' Asked thus bluntly, I found myself hard put to it for an answer. After all, it was doubtful if I was not sorry that I had set out on this adventure. Never before had I felt myself so out of harmony with what was in my sister's heart. Obviously the riddle of my mood was beyond her finding out. She gave a little twirl of her skirts, as if dismissing from her mind all efforts to understand me. 'My dear Douglas, you are so mysterious, and so unexpectedly--shall I say, didactic! You do intend to be didactic, don't you, dear?--that you must excuse my calling your attention to the fact that the person who brought this note still waits.' I rang the bell. Bartlett appeared. 'Tell the person who brought this letter that the answer is: "I am coming at once."' When the servant had vanished, Violet eyed me with a quizzical smile. 'So you are going. I hope that the Marquis of Twickenham has exaggerated the gravity of his condition, and that on your arrival you will find him in the enjoyment of perfect health. Is that the kind of observation you think I ought to make?'