"God knows. Who can say?"

"At any rate there is that child at Manor Cross. If he be not the
legitimate heir, is it not better for him that the matter should be
settled now than when he may have lived twenty years in expectation of
the title and property?" The Dean said much more than this, urging the
propriety of what had been done, but he did not succeed in quieting
Lord George's mind.

That same day the Dean told the whole story to his daughter, perhaps in
his eagerness adding something to what he had heard from the lawyer.
"Divorces in Roman Catholic countries," he said, "are quite impossible.
I believe they are never granted, except for State purposes. There may
be some new civil law, but I don't think it; and then, if the man was
an acknowledged lunatic, it must have been impossible."

"But how could the Marquis be so foolish, papa?"

"Ah, that is what we do not understand. But it will come out. You may
be sure it will all come out. Why did he come home to England and bring
them with him? And why just at this time? Why did he not communicate
his first marriage; and if not that, why the second? He probably did
not intend at first to put his child forward as Lord Popenjoy, but has
become subsequently bold. The woman, perhaps, has gradually learned the
facts and insisted on making the claim for her child. She may gradually
have become stronger than he. He may have thought that by coming here
and declaring the boy to be his heir, he would put down suspicion by
the very boldness of his assertion. Who can say? But these are the
facts, and they are sufficient to justify us in demanding that
everything shall be brought to light." Then for the first time, he
asked her what immediate hope there was that Lord George might have an
heir. She tried to laugh, then blushed; then wept a tear or two, and
muttered something which he failed to hear. "There is time enough for
all that, Mary," he said, with his pleasantest smile, and then left
her.

Lord George did not return home till late in the afternoon. He went
first to Mrs. Houghton's house, and told her nearly everything. But he
told it in such a way as to make her understand that his strongest
feeling at the present moment was one of anger against the Dean.

"Of course, George," she said, for she always called him George
now,--"The Dean will try to have it all his own way."

"I am almost sorry that I ever mentioned my brother's name to him."

"She, I suppose, is ambiti