"No;--and therefore cannot know what she is."

"I don't in the least want to know what she is. You and I, George,
haven't been very lucky in our marriages."

"I have."

"Do you think so? You see I speak more frankly of myself. But I am not
speaking of your wife. Your wife's father has been a blister to me ever
since I came back to this country, and you must make up your mind
whether you will take his part or mine. You know what he did, and what
he induced you to do about Popenjoy. You know the reports that he has
spread abroad. And you know what happened in this room. I expect you to
throw him off altogether." Lord George had thrown the Dean off
altogether. For reasons of his own he had come to the conclusion that
the less he had to do with the Dean the better for himself; but he
certainly could give no such pledge as this now demanded from him. "You
won't make me this promise?" said the Marquis.

"No; I can't do that."

"Then you'll have to turn out of Manor Cross," said the Marquis,
smiling.

"You do not mean that my mother must be turned out?"

"You and my mother, I suppose, will live together?"

"It does not follow. I will pay you rent for Cross Hall."

"You shall do no such thing. I will not let Cross Hall to any friend of
the Dean's."

"You cannot turn your mother out immediately after telling her to go
there?"

"It will be you who turn her out,--not I. I have made you a very
liberal offer," said the Marquis.

"I will have nothing to do with it," said Lord George. "In any house in
which I act as master I will be the judge who shall be entertained and
who not."

"The first guests you will ask, no doubt, will be the Dean of
Brotherton and Captain De Baron." This was so unbearable that he at
once made a rush at the door. "You'll find, my friend," said the
Marquis, "that you'll have to get rid of the Dean and of the Dean's
daughter as well." Then Lord George swore to himself as he left the
room that he would never willingly be in his brother's company again.

He was rushing down the stairs, thinking about his wife, swearing to
himself that all this was calumny, yet confessing to himself that there
must have been terrible indiscretion to make the calumny so general,
when he was met on the landing by Mrs. Walker in her best silk gown.
"Please, my lord, might I take the liberty of asking for one word in my
own room?" Lord George followed her and heard the one word. "Please, my
lord, what are we to d