“Yes, I know,” said the voice. “Renée has fled to me for protection from her husband. You did well amongst you. Poor child!”
“Hang it all, uncle, don’t talk like that!” cried Dick impetuously. “You ought to know that we had nothing to do with it. Help us; don’t scold us.”
“I am helping you,” said the Captain. “Renée stays here with me till she can be sure of a happy home. And, look here,” he continued, growing in firmness, “she has told me everything. If you are a man, you will call out anyone who dares say a word against her fame.”
“It’s all very well, uncle,” said Dick; “but this is 18—, and not your young days. No one has a word to say against Renée. But look here, uncle, that isn’t all. Gertrude has gone off.”
“With John Huish, of course. Ah, Humphrey, how strangely Fate works her ways!”
“But, uncle, they say John Huish has turned out an utter swindler and scamp. Last thing I heard was that he had been expelled from his club.”
“Let them talk,” said Captain Millet quietly. “I say it cannot be true.”
“But, Bob,” faltered Sir Humphrey weakly, “they do make out a very bad case against him.”
“Then you and your boy can take up the cudgels on his behalf. He is son and brother now. There, I am weary. Go.”
“But Renée—we must see her.”