§ 2

He found his father and mother and two sisters in the drawing-room, and it seemed to him that their greeting had a queer, uneasy quality about it, a kind of abstraction—as if their thoughts were centred on something more engrossing than his return. When he had gone his round of kisses and handshakes, Lady Alard seemed suddenly to express the real interest of the party by crying in a heartbroken voice——

“Peter! what do you think has happened?”

“What?” cried Peter sharply. He had a vision of a foreclosing mortgagee.

“It’s Mary!” wailed Lady Alard—“Julian is divorcing her.”

“Mary!”

Peter was genuinely shocked—the Alards did not appear in the divorce court; also his imagination was staggered at the thought of Mary, the fastidious, the pure, the intense, being caught in the coarse machinery of the state marriage laws.

“Yes—isn’t it utterly dreadful? It appears he’s had her watched by detectives ever since she left him, and now they’ve found something against her—at least they think they have. It was that time she went abroad with Meg Sellons, and Charles joined them at Bordighera—which I always said was unwise. But the worst of all, Peter, is that she says she won’t defend herself—she says that she’s done nothing wrong, but she won’t defend herself—she’ll let Julian put her away, and everyone will think she’s—oh, Peter, this will finish me—it really will. When I got Mary’s letter I had the worst attack I’ve had for years—we had to send for Dr. Mount in the middle of the night. I really thought——”

Sir John interrupted her——

“You’d better let me finish, Lucy. The subject is legal, not medical. Mary has behaved like a fool and run her head into Julian’s trap. I don’t know how much there is in it, but from what she says I doubt if he has much of a case. If she’ll defend it, she’ll probably be able to clear herself, and what’s more I bet she could bring a counter-petition.”

“That would be a nasty mess, wouldn’t it, Sir?” said Peter.

“Not such a nasty mess as my daughter being held up in all the newspapers as an adulteress!”

“Oh, John!” cried Lady Alard—“what a dreadful thing to say before the girls!”

“Doris is old enough to hear the word now if she’s never heard it before, and Jenny—she’s Emancipated, and a great deal older than you and me. I tell you I object to my daughter being placarded in the penny papers as an adulteress, and I’d much rather she proved Julian an adulterer.”

“Is that possible, sir?” asked Peter.

“Of course it is—the man’s been on the loose for a year.”

“If that’s all your evidence——”

“Well, I haven’t had him followed by detectives, but I can turn a few on now, and——”

“Really, Sir, I do agree with Mary that it would be better to leave the matter alone. An undefended case can be slipped through the papers with very little fuss, while if you have a defence, to say nothing of a cross-petition ... it isn’t as if she particularly wanted to keep Julian as a husband—I expect she’s glad to have the chance of getting rid of him so easily.”

“I daresay she is. I daresay she wants to marry that old ass Charles Smith. But what about her reputation?—what about ours? I tell you I’m not going to stand still and have filth thrown at me by the press. I’m proud of my name if you aren’t.”

“It really seems to me that the matter rests with Mary—if she doesn’t want to defend herself....”

“Mary must think of her family—it ought to come before her private feelings.”

The words seemed an echo of a far-back argument—they reminded Peter dimly of his own straits last year. The family must come first.... That time it was money, now it was reputation. After all, why not? There was no good holding to the one and letting the other go. But he was sorry for Mary all the same.

“Well, I can’t stay any longer now. I must be getting back to dinner. I’ll bring Vera up tomorrow morning.”

“Mary’s coming down in the afternoon.”

“Oh, is she?”

“Yes—I’ve wired for her. I insist on her listening to reason.”

So Mary would have to face Peter’s choice—family duty against personal inclination.... Well, after all he hadn’t made such a bad thing of it.... He thought of Vera waiting for him at Starvecrow, and in spite of the fret of the last half-hour a smile of childlike satisfaction was on his face as he went home.