"Every claim," said John. "That is not what I was thinking of. It is this: if the man has a leg to stand upon, he will show fight. If he hasn't—why that will make the whole difference, and probably Elinor's position will be quite safe. But you yourself say——"
"John, don't throw back upon me what I myself said. I said that perhaps things were not so bad as she believed. In my experience I have found that folly, and playing with everything that is right is more common than absolute wrong—and men like Philip Compton are made up of levity and disregard of everything that is serious."
"In that case," said John, "if you are right, he will not let her go."
"Oh, John! oh, John! don't make me wish that he may be a worse man than I think. He could not force her to go back to him, feeling as she does."
"Nobody can force a woman to do that; but he could perhaps make her position untenable; he would, perhaps, take away the child."
"John," said Mrs. Dennistoun, in alarm, "if you tell her that, she will fly off with him to the end of the world. She will die before she will part with the child."
"I suppose that's how women are made," said John, not yet cured of his personal offence.
"Yes," she said, "that's how women are made."
"I beg your pardon," he said, coming to himself; "but you know, aunt, a man may be pardoned for not understanding that supreme fascination of the baby who cares no more for one than another, poor little animal, so long as it gets its food and is warm enough. We must await and see what the man will do."
"Is that the best?—is there nothing we can do to defend ourselves in the meantime—to make any sort of barricade against him?"