‘Then, since we are speaking upon the matter—since you broached it yourself, let me tell you seriously, that, if there is not any real tangible impediment in the way, I think you do wrong in every way not to take the goods the gods offer you.’ Wellfield was silent for a prolonged space, till at last he said, slowly, reluctantly, as if the words were wrung from him: ‘Honour binds me elsewhere.’ ‘So! Another lady in the case!’ was the reply, given with a lightness of tone, an absolute approach to a laugh, which surprised Wellfield, and almost gave him a shock. He had expected his words to reduce Somerville to silence to produce an apology for indiscretion. The fact that nothing of the kind happened, had a subtle effect upon his own mental attitude. Somerville went on, with a tact and an audacity combined which were certainly remarkable: ‘Pardon me, I ask no names—indeed, I would rather you mentioned none; but tell me, if you do not very much mind, this lady to whom honour binds you—is she rich?’ ‘No.’ ‘Is she likely to be?’ ‘Not unless she becomes so by her own exertions.’ ‘And there is no definite prospect of marriage for you?’ ‘As you may suppose, none—not even an indefinite one.’ ‘I could suppose so. Well ... remember I speak quite without knowledge of the circumstances, but knowing exactly what I do—no more and no less, I should say, I hope that lady is aware of what is being sacrificed for her sake.’ Jerome was perfectly silent. Perhaps he was not conscious of acting like a cowardly hound. He did not realise, for Father Somerville was too clever to allow him to do so—he did not then realise that the woman who was his promised wife had been lightly spoken of—to him—and he had lifted neither hand nor voice in protest. ‘That is my feeling,’ repeated Somerville; ‘but after this, I have no right to urge you. But I repeat my words—I would to heaven that you, Jerome Wellfield, were master here! Good-night!’ Wellfield wrung his hand, and took his homeward way. Somerville passed slowly back towards the Brentwood Park, his hands clasped behind his back, pondering, lost in thought, till at last he gave a sudden start and stop.