"Well, my dear," the old gentleman toddled to compose her, "I'm quite of your opinion. I believe he knows no more than you or I. My belief is they none of them know anything till they join issue and go into Court. I want to see a few female lawyers."
"To encourage the bankrupt perruquier, sir?" said Adrian. "They would have to keep a large supply of wigs on hand."
"And you can jest, Adrian!" his aunt reproached him. "But I will not be beaten. I know—I am firmly convinced that no law would ever allow a boy to disgrace his family and ruin himself like that, and nothing shall persuade me that it is so. Now, tell me, Brandon, and pray do speak in answer to my questions, and please to forget you are dealing with a woman. Can my nephew be rescued from the consequences of his folly? Is what he has done legitimate? Is he bound for life by what he has done while a boy?
"Well—a," Brandon breathed through his teeth. "A—hm! the matter's so very delicate, you see, Helen."
"You're to forget that," Adrian remarked.
"A—hm! well!" pursued Brandon. "Perhaps if you could arrest and divide them before nightfall, and make affidavit of certain facts"…
"Yes?" the eager woman hastened his lagging mouth.
"Well…hm! a…in that case…a… Or if a lunatic, you could prove him to have been of unsound mind."…
"Oh! there's no doubt of his madness on my mind, Brandon."
"Yes! well! in that case… Or if of different religious persuasions"…