"He's no fool, you know," said the father.

"Not at all;--only vague. But he's the last man in the world to
have nasty vulgar ideas of his own importance as distinguished from
yours."

"Lopez says--"

"I wouldn't quite trust Lopez."

"He isn't a bad fellow in his way, Arthur. Of course he is not what
I would have liked for a son-in-law. I needn't tell you that. But he
is kind and gentle-mannered, and has always been attached to Everett.
You know he saved Everett's life at the risk of his own." Arthur
could not but smile as he perceived how the old man was being won
round by the son-in-law, whom he had treated so violently before the
man had become his son-in-law. "By-the-way, what was all that about a
letter you wrote to him?"

"Emily,--I mean Mrs. Lopez,--will tell you if you ask her."

"I don't want to ask her. I don't want to appear to set the wife
against the husband. I am sure, my boy, you would write nothing that
could affront her."

"I think not, Mr. Wharton. If I know myself at all, or my own nature,
it is not probable that I should affront your daughter."

"No; no; no. I know that, my dear boy. I was always sure of that.
Take some more wine."

"No more, thank you. I must be off because I'm so anxious about this
Bill."

"I couldn't ask Emily about this letter. Now that they are married I
have to make the best of it,--for her sake. I couldn't bring myself
to say anything to her which might seem to accuse him."

"I thought it right, sir, to explain to her that were I not in the
hands of other people I would not do anything to interfere with her
happiness by opposing her husband. My language was most guarded."

"He destroyed the letter."

"I have a copy of it, if it comes to that," said Arthur.

"It will be best, perhaps, to say nothing further about it.
Well;--good night, my boy, if you must go." Then Fletcher went off to
the House, wondering as he went at the change which had apparently
come over the character of his old friend. Mr. Wharton had always
been a strong man, and now he seemed to be as weak as water. As to
Everett, Fletcher was sure that there was something wrong, but he
could not see his way to interfere himself. For the present he was
divided from the family. Nevertheless he told himself again and again
that that division should not be permanent. Of all the world she must
always be to him the dearest.

CHAPTER XXXVII

The Horns

The first months of the Session went