Tregear could be got out of the way, his father, he thought, might
be reconciled to other things. He felt very tender-hearted about his
father; but he had no remorse in regard to his sister as he made up
his mind that he would speak very seriously to Tregear.

He had wandered into St. James's Park, and had lighted by this time
half-a-dozen cigarettes one after another, as he sat on one of the
benches. He was a handsome youth, all but six feet high, with light
hair, with round blue eyes, and with all that aristocratic look,
which had belonged so peculiarly to the late Duke but which was less
conspicuous in the present head of the family. He was a young man
whom you would hardly pass in a crowd without observing,--but of whom
you would say, after due observation, that he had not as yet put off
all his childish ways. He now sat with his legs stretched out, with
his cane in his hands, looking down upon the water. He was trying to
think. He worked hard at thinking. But the bench was hard and, upon
the whole, he was not satisfied with his position. He had just made
up his mind that he would look up Tregear, when Tregear himself
appeared on the path before him.

"Tregear!" exclaimed Silverbridge.

"Silverbridge!" exclaimed Tregear.

"What on earth makes you walk about here on a Sunday morning?"

"What on earth makes you sit there? That I should walk here, which
I often do, does not seem to me odd. But that I should find you is
marvellous. Do you often come?"

"Never was here in my life before. I strolled in because I had things
to think of."

"Questions to be asked in Parliament? Notices of motions, Amendments
in Committee, and that kind of thing?"

"Go on, old fellow."

"Or perhaps Major Tifto has made important revelations."

"D---- Major Tifto."

"With all my heart," said Tregear.

"Sit down here," said Silverbridge. "As it happened, at the moment
when you came up I was thinking of you."

"That was kind."

"And I was determined to go to you. All this about my sister must be
given up."

"Must be given up?"

"It can never lead to any good. I mean that there never can be a
marriage." Then he paused, but Tregear was determined to hear him
out. "It is making my father so miserable that you would pity him if
you could see him."

"I dare say I should. When I see people unhappy I always pity them.
What I would ask you to think of is this. If I were to commission you
to tell your sister that everything betwe