"When my dear father died," said Nansie, "Kingsley was in London. Mr. Manners had just returned from Russia, and it was the first opportunity Kingsley had of making him acquainted with our marriage. I think that Kingsley, out of consideration for me, has not told me everything that passed between him and his father, but I know that Mr. Manners extracted a promise from him to remain at home for a week before he decided." "Decided upon what?" asked Mr. Loveday, abruptly. "I do not know, uncle; Kingsley has been so worried and troubled that it would have been unkind for me to press him upon points which really matter very little. For, after all, Kingsley came back to me when I called him, and is true and faithful." "His father perhaps pressed him to desert you and break your heart. Rich as the self-made man is, he could not divorce you. And your husband consented to remain a week in his father's house to consider it! That looks ugly." "Kingsley did nothing wrong. He hoped by remaining near his father that a favorable moment might come when he could successfully appeal to him to deal more tenderly towards us. There was also the chance of his mother's mediation." "Ah, there is a mother. I was going to ask about her." "Mr. Manners is master of everything and everybody. His lightest word is law. Before the week was ended Kingsley received my letter with news of my dear father's death. Where was Kingsley's place then, uncle?" "By your side." "He came at once without a single hour's delay. He asked his father to release him from his promise, and as Mr. Manners would not do so, he broke it--out of love for me. This, I think, embittered Mr. Manners more strongly against us, and he turned Kingsley from the house. I hope you are beginning to do Kingsley justice, uncle." "He seems to have acted well. But go on."