marriage. I never
approved. Shotover backed me up in it. He didn't approve either. And in
the end Calmady behaved in a very high-minded, straightforward manner.
Came to me himself and exhibited very good sense and very proper
feeling, did Calmady. Admitted his own disabilities with extraordinary
frankness, too much frankness, I was inclined to think at the time. It
struck me as a trifle callous, don't you know. But afterwards, when he
left home in that singular manner and went abroad, and we all lost
sight of him, and heard how reckless he had become and all that, it
weighed on me. I give you my word, Mrs. Cathcart, it weighed very much
on me. I've seldom been more upset by anything in my life than I was by
the whole affair of that wedding."

"I am afraid it was a great mistake throughout," Mrs. Cathcart said.
She folded her plump, white hands upon her ample lap and sighed gently.

"Wasn't it, though? So I told everybody from the start you know,"
commented Lord Fallowfeild.

"It caused a great deal of unhappiness."

"So it did, so it did," the good man said, quite humbly. He looked
crestfallen, his kindly and well-favoured countenance being overspread
by an expression of disarmingly innocent penitence.--"It weighed on me.
I should be glad to be able to forget it, but now it's all cropping up
again. You see there are these rumours that poor, young Calmady's gone
under very much one way and another, that his health's broken up
altogether, and that he is shut up in two rooms at Brockhurst
because--it's a terribly distressing thing to mention, but that's the
common talk, you know--because he's a little touched here"--the speaker
tapped his smooth and very candid forehead--"a little wrong here!
Horrible thing insanity," he repeated.

At this point Dr. Knott, who had been watching first one person present
and then another from under his shaggy eyebrows with an air of somewhat
harsh amusement, roused himself.

"Pardon me, all a pack of lies, my lord," he said, "and stupid ones
into the bargain. Sir Richard Calmady's as sane as you are yourself."

"Is he, though?" the other exclaimed, brightening sensibly. "Thank you,
Knott. It is a very great relief to me to hear that."

"Only a man with a remarkably sound constitution could have pulled
round. I quite own he's been very hard hit, and no wonder. Typhoid and
complications----"

"Ah! complications?" inquired Lord Fallowfeild, who rarely let slip an
opportunity of acqu