eorge."

"Were you, though? I'm sure I'm very sorry, my dear Alicia. Hate to
hurt anybody, especially one of my own children. Unnatural thing to
hurt one of your own children. But you see this feeling of all of yours
about Shotover has been very painful to me. I never have liked
divisions in families. Never know where they may lead to. Nasty,
uncomfortable things divisions in families."

"Well, papa, I can only say that divisions are almost invariably caused
by a want of the sense of duty." Lady Louisa's voice was stern. "And if
people are over-indulged they become selfish, and then, of course, they
lose their sense of duty."

"My sister is a notable logician," Mr. Quayle murmured, under his
breath. "If logic ruled life, how clear, how simple our course! But
then, unfortunately, it doesn't."

"Shotover has really no one but himself to thank for any bitterness
that his brothers and sisters may feel towards him. He has thrown away
his chances, has got the whole family talked about in a most
objectionable manner, and has been a serious encumbrance to you, and
indirectly to all of us. We have all suffered quite enough trouble and
annoyance already. And so I must protest, papa, I must very strongly
and definitely protest, against Connie being permitted, still more
encouraged, to do exactly the same thing."

Lord Fallowfeild, still grasping his walking-stick,--though he could
not but fear that trusted weapon had proved faithless and sadly failed
in its duty of support,--gazed distractedly at the speaker. Visions of
Jewish money-lenders, of ladies more fair and kind than wise, of guinea
points at whist, of the prize ring of Baden-Baden, of Newmarket and
Doncaster, arose confusedly before him. What the deuce,--he did not
like bad language, but really,--what the dickens, had all these to do
with his ewe-lamb, innocent little Constance, her virgin-white body and
soul, and her sweet, wide-eyed prettiness?

"My dear Louisa, no doubt you know what you mean, but I give you my
word I don't," he began.

"Hear, hear, my dear father," put in Mr. Quayle. "There I am with you.
Louisa's wing is strong, her range is great. I myself, on this
occasion, find it not a little difficult to follow her."

"Nonsense, Ludovic," almost snapped the lady. "You follow me perfectly,
or can do so if you use your common sense. Papa must face the fact,
that Constance cannot afford--that we cannot afford to have her--throw
away her chances, as Shotov