"He's by no means a bad sort of man, my love," said the judge.
"But he's got nothing—literally nothing," said the mother.
"Neither had I, when I went a wooing," said the judge. "But, nevertheless, I managed to have it all my own way."
"You don't mean really to make a comparison?" said Lady Staveley. "In the first place you were at the top of your profession."
"Was I? If so I must have achieved that distinction at a very early age." And then he kissed his wife very affectionately. Nobody was there to see, and under such circumstances a man may kiss his wife even though he be a judge, and between fifty and sixty years old. After that he again spoke to his son, and in spite of the resolves which Augustus had made as to what friendship required of him, succeeded in learning the whole truth.
Late in the evening, when all the party had drunk their cups of tea, when Lady Staveley was beginning her nap, and Augustus was making himself agreeable to Miss Furnival—to the great annoyance of his mother, who half rousing herself every now and then, looked sorrowfully at what was going on with her winking eyes,—the judge contrived to withdraw with Madeline into the small drawing-room, telling her as he put his arm around her waist, that he had a few words to say to her.
"Well, papa," said she, as at his bidding she sat herself down beside him on the sofa. She was frightened, because such summonses were very unusual; but nevertheless her father's manner towards her was always so full of love that even in her fear she felt a comfort in being with him.
"My darling," he said, "I want to ask you one or two questions—about our guest here who has hurt himself,—Mr. Graham."
"Yes, papa." And now she knew that she was trembling with nervous dread.
"You need not think that I am in the least angry with you, or that I suspect you of having done or said, or even thought anything that is wrong. I feel quite confident that I have no cause to do so."