o much as this rebuke. Indeed, in a measure, he felt the
rebuke deserved, and it was only because he held the rumour of Raymond's
achievements an evil lie, that he had cautioned the young man, and with
the best motives, desired to put him on his guard. But that the story
should be true--or based on truth--as now appeared from Raymond's anger,
had never occurred to Richard. Had he suspected such a thing, he must
have deplored it, but he certainly would not have mentioned it.

He went out now without a word and held it the wisest policy not to see
his angry customer again that night. He sent Raymond's account in by a
maid, and the young man paid it and went out to keep his appointment
with Miss Ironsyde.

But again his mood was changed. Gurd had hit him very hard. Indeed, no
such severe blow had been struck as this unconscious thrust of
Richard's. For it meant that an incident that Raymond was striving to
reconcile with the ways of youth--a sowing of wild oats not destined to
damage future crops--had appeared to the easy-going publican as a thing
to be stoutly contradicted--an act quite incompatible with Raymond's
record and credit. Coming from Gurd this attitude signified a great
deal; for if the keeper of a sporting inn took such a line about the
situation, what sort of line were others likely to take? Above all, what
sort of line would his Aunt Jenny take? His nebulous hopes dwindled. He
began to fear that she would find the honour of the family depended not
on his freeing himself from Sabina, but the contrary.

And he was right. Miss Ironsyde welcomed him kindly, but left no shadow
of doubt as to her opinion; and the fact that the situation had been
complicated by publicity, which in the last resort he argued, by no
means turned her from her ultimatum.

"Sit down and smoke and listen to me, Raymond," she began, after kissing
him. "I forgive you, once for all, that you could be so rude to me and
fail to see me despite my very pressing letter. No doubt some whim or
suspicion inspired you to be unkind. But that doesn't matter now. That's
a trifle. We've got to thresh out something that isn't a trifle,
however, for your honour and good name are both involved--and with
yours, ours."

"I argue that a great deal too much is being made of this, Aunt Jenny."

"I hope so--I hope everything has been exaggerated through a
misunderstanding. Delay in these cases is often simply fatal, Raymond,
because it gives a lie a start.