ling-house he frequents, and publicly call him
cheat--slap his face, if need be.'

'Sure to!' repeated Redworth. 'No stupid pretext will quash the woman's
name. Now, such a thing as a duel would give pain enough.'

'Of course; I understand,' Sir Lukin nodded his clear comprehension. 'But
what is it you advise, to trounce the scoundrel, and silence him?'

'Leave it to me for a day. Let me have your word that you won't take a
step: positively--neither you nor Colonel Hartswood. I'll see you by
appointment at your Club.' Redworth looked up over the chimneys. 'We 're
going to have a storm and a gale, I can tell you.'

'Gale and storm!' cried Sir Lukin; 'what has that got to do with it?'

'Think of something else for, a time.'

'And that brute of a woman--deuced handsome she is!--if you care for fair
women, Redworth:--she's a Venus, jumped slap out of the waves, and the
Devil for sire--that you learn: running about, sowing her lies. She's a
yellow witch. Oh! but she's a shameless minx. And a black-leg cur like
Wroxeter! Any woman intimate with a fellow like that, stamps herself. I
loathe her. Sort of woman who swears in the morning you're the only man
on earth; and next day--that evening-engaged!--fee to Polly Hopkins--and
it's a gentleman, a nobleman, my lord!--been going on behind your back
half the season!--and she isn't hissed when she abuses a lady, a saint in
comparison! You know the world, old fellow:--Brighton, Richmond, visits
to a friend as deep in the bog. How Fryar-Gunnett--a man, after all--can
stand it! And drives of an afternoon for an airing-by heaven! You're out
of that mess, Redworth: not much taste for the sex; and you're right,
you're lucky. Upon my word, the corruption of society in the present day
is awful; it's appalling.--I rattled at her: and oh! dear me, perks on
her hind heels and defies me to prove: and she's no pretender, but hopes
she's as good as any of my "chaste Dianas." My dear old friend, it's when
you come upon women of that kind you have a sickener. And I'm bound by
the best there is in a man-honour, gratitude, all the' list--to defend
Diana Warwick.'

'So, you see, for your wife's sake, your name can't be hung on a woman of
that kind,' said Redworth. 'I'll call here the day after to-morrow at
three P.M.'

Sir Lukin descended and vainly pressed Redworth to run up into his Club
for refreshment. Said he roguishly:

'Who 's the lady?'

The tone threw Redworth on his frankness.