ufort and Beaufort's wife would be offered up unflinchingly to this
principle. But to be obliged to offer them up would be not only
painful but inconvenient. The disappearance of the Beauforts would
leave a considerable void in their compact little circle; and those who
were too ignorant or too careless to shudder at the moral catastrophe
bewailed in advance the loss of the best ball-room in New York.

Archer had definitely made up his mind to go to Washington. He was
waiting only for the opening of the law-suit of which he had spoken to
May, so that its date might coincide with that of his visit; but on the
following Tuesday he learned from Mr. Letterblair that the case might
be postponed for several weeks. Nevertheless, he went home that
afternoon determined in any event to leave the next evening. The
chances were that May, who knew nothing of his professional life, and
had never shown any interest in it, would not learn of the
postponement, should it take place, nor remember the names of the
litigants if they were mentioned before her; and at any rate he could
no longer put off seeing Madame Olenska. There were too many things
that he must say to her.

On the Wednesday morning, when he reached his office, Mr. Letterblair
met him with a troubled face. Beaufort, after all, had not managed to
"tide over"; but by setting afloat the rumour that he had done so he
had reassured his depositors, and heavy payments had poured into the
bank till the previous evening, when disturbing reports again began to
predominate. In consequence, a run on the bank had begun, and its
doors were likely to close before the day was over. The ugliest things
were being said of Beaufort's dastardly manoeuvre, and his failure
promised to be one of the most discreditable in the history of Wall
Street.

The extent of the calamity left Mr. Letterblair white and
incapacitated. "I've seen bad things in my time; but nothing as bad as
this. Everybody we know will be hit, one way or another. And what
will be done about Mrs. Beaufort? What CAN be done about her? I pity
Mrs. Manson Mingott as much as anybody: coming at her age, there's no
knowing what effect this affair may have on her. She always believed
in Beaufort--she made a friend of him! And there's the whole Dallas
connection: poor Mrs. Beaufort is related to every one of you. Her
only chance would be to leave her husband--yet how can any one tell her
so? Her duty is at his side;