“I am not going home with you to-night, mother. I sleep at Connie's. She will not refuse me a bed.” “Your father means what he says.” “So do I, mother. I can manage pretty well without your protection till I am married. Then I sha'n't need it.” “Pray whom are you going to marry?” asked Mrs. Hardacre, acidly. “I should think it was obvious,” said Norma. “Mr. Padgate has done me the very great honour to ask me to be his wife. I have agreed. I am over age and a free agent, so there's nothing more to be said, mother.” Mrs. Hardacre refused to take the announcement seriously. Her thin lips worked into a smile. “This is sheer folly, my dear Norma. Over age or not we can't allow you to disgrace yourself and us--” “We have never had such honour conferred on us in all our lives,” said Norma. Mrs. Hardacre shrugged her shoulders pityingly. “Among sane folks it would be a disgrace and a scandal. Even Mr. Padgate would scarcely take advantage of a fit of hysterical folly.” She turned to Jimmie. “I assure you she is hardly responsible for her actions. You are aware what you would be guilty of in bringing her into this--this--?” She paused for a word and waved her hand around. “Hovel?” suggested Jimmie, grimly. “Yes. I am aware of it. Miss Hardacre must not consider herself bound by anything she has said to-night.” Connie Deering, who had come up waiting for a chance to speak, her forget-me-not eyes curiously hard and dangerous, broke in quickly: “Why did you say _even_ Mr. Padgate, Mrs. Hardacre?” “Mr. Padgate has a reputation--” said Mrs. Hardacre, with an expressive gesture. “Jimmie--” He checked his advocate. “Please, no more.” “I should think not, indeed! Are you coming, Norma?” “You had better go,” said Jimmie, softly. “Why quarrel with your parents? To-morrow, a week, a month hence you can tell me your wishes. I set you quite free.” Norma made a movement of impatience. “Don't make me say things I should regret--I am not going to change my mind. No, mother, I am not coming.” Morland had not said a word, but stood in the background, hating himself. Only Connie's taunt had caused him to enter this maddeningly false position. He knew that his accusation, though he believed it true at the time, was false and base. Jimmie was true gold. He had not betrayed him. Connie, when Jimmie had checked her, went across to Morland. “Do _you_ believe that Jimmie deserves his reputation?” she said for his ears alone. “I don't know,” he answered moodily, kicking at a hassock. “I do know,” she said, “and it's damnable.” A quick glance exchanged completed her assurance. He saw that she knew, and despised him. For a few moments he lost consciousness of externals in alarmed contemplation of this new thing--a self openly despised by one of his equals. Mrs. Hardacre's voice aroused him. She was saying her final words to Norma.