All idea that his passion was dishonourable had now vanished, and his dearest hope was that she should divorce her present husband, in order to become his wife. Although he did not understand the actual circumstances of the case, he was well aware that Alizon considered herself outraged by her husband's companionship with Mrs. Veilsturm. He knew that Guy had shown a marked preference for the society of Cleopatra, and, as he had followed his charmer over to the Continent, Eustace began to actually believe that Errington was in love with the beautiful Creole. "Small blame to him," thought Eustace to himself as he drove over to the Hall one evening. "She set her mind upon making a conquest of him, and when a woman does that, a man may as well give in to the inevitable with a good grace. At all events it's not my fault. I never spoke to Mrs. Veilsturm in any way. I never told his wife about the affair, it's Fate and nothing else, and seeing that he has forgotten all a husband's duties, they will never come together again, so I don't see why I should not profit by the occasion." In this way did Eustace pacify his conscience to his own satisfaction, although at times he had an uneasy feeling that a good deal of hard, bitter truth underlay all this sophistry. A good many weeks had gone by, and Lady Errington had come to look upon him as a firm friend. Still, not being satisfied with this, and suffering all the tortures of a restless mind, he determined, as soon as possible, to find out if she was prepared to divorce her husband for his infidelity, and, if so, thought he would plead his own cause. "If there's a chance for me, I'll stay in England and try my hardest," he said to himself as he alighted from the dog-cart at the Hall. "If not, I'll go out to Africa with Laxton." Javelrack drove the dog-cart off in the direction of the stables, and Eustace, after one look at the opaline evening sky, in which glimmered a pale star over the treetops, went inside, where Lady Errington was expecting him to dinner. She was in the little Dutch room, which was her favourite, and when Eustace was announced by the servant, was standing by the table tossing Sammy in the air, while Tasker, well pleased, waited to bear off the young gentleman to bed. "See my treasure?" she cried, as Gartney approached her, "he has come to say good-night. Excuse me shaking hands, Eustace." "Certainly, I yield to stronger claims," said Gartney, looking at the laughing child, and at the happy young mother, in her long, white, dinner-dress. "You ought to be in your nursery, you young scamp." "So he ought," laughed Lady Errington, devouring the baby face with kisses, "but he cried for me so much that Nurse had to bring him down." "He hollered, sir," confirmed Mrs. Tasker, placidly. "I never did see sich a child for his mother."