“Indeed! You are at the head of what is, whatever you may choose to call it, a gaming-house.” She uttered an exclamation of dismay, but he went on in spite of her. “You are at the head of another establishment for selling--h’m--bonnets. Now it is perfectly legitimate to sell--h’m--bonnets. But it is not an employment which I can approve of in my nephew’s wife.” And the viscount drew himself up with dignity. “Why didn’t you find me out and see what I was doing?” burst out Audrey with sudden spirit. “If you had given it a thought, you would have known that I must do something to live, and it’s your fault, after all, that I had to take the advice of such friends as I had, whether it was bad or good.” Lord Clanfield was much displeased by this attack, which was, he considered, unjust and uncalled for. His irritation against her increased. “Permit me to be the best judge of my own actions,” he said icily; “I repeat that I cannot countenance your proceedings, either in regard to my sons or my nephew.” “I was coming to tell you about your sons. If they’ve told you they come to my house still, they have said what is not true. They do not come. I have forbidden my servants to let them in.” To her annoyance, these words of hers incensed him more than anything else that she had said. She saw plainly that he did not believe her. “I really think,” he said drily, “that there is no need for us to prolong this interview. As for my sons, if they do not desist from courses of which I disapprove, I may--I should regret it, but I may--have to call in the assistance of the police.” Audrey uttered a cry, but he went on without taking any notice of her. “As for my nephew, if you force your way into his presence, I cannot answer for the consequences, and I regret that I should in that case feel it my duty to let him know some things which, in his present state, he had better not hear.” “He would not believe you,” cried Audrey passionately. “Possibly not. But in that case, and if he insisted upon taking your part, which would be perfectly natural, I should have to give him up to you entirely, as I decline to receive you here.” Audrey was shaking like a leaf. “You don’t mean that! You couldn’t be so cruel! If it were best for him to see me?” pleaded she. “I deny that it would be best. In any case, I cannot go back from that position. If you leave him here, and suffer him to think, as he now thinks, that you are dead, lost to him, he may get over that shock, in the comfort and relief of finding himself free and tenderly cared for once more. In the meantime, as I cannot but think I have been unjust to him in taking it for granted he was guilty, I will strain every nerve to probe the mystery attending his conviction. But if you insist on taking him away with you--and I daresay he would go, for you are a beautiful and attractive woman and he loves you--then I cast him off, I can do no less, and you must sink or swim together.”