Lester's pleasant face showed a certain embarrassment.
"They have only just gone—at least, Arthur and Lord Coryston. James went some time ago."
Marcia threw her head back defiantly against the latticed bookcase.
"I suppose Corry has been attacking my mother?"
Lester hesitated; then spoke with grave sincerity: "I assure you, he did nothing of the kind. I should not have let him." He smiled.
"But they've told you—he and Arthur—they've told you what's happened?"
"Yes," he said, reluctantly. "I tried to stop them."
"As if anything could stop Corry!" cried Marcia—"when he wants to do something he knows he oughtn't to do. And he's told you his precious plan?—of coming to settle down at Coryston—in our very pockets—in order to make mother's life a burden to her?"
"A perfectly mad whim!" said Lester, smiling again. "I don't believe he'll do it."
"Oh yes, he will," said Marcia; "he'll do anything that suits his ideas. He calls it following his conscience. Other people's ideas and other people's consciences don't matter a bit."