“I did.”
“Never.”
“I certainly intended to—although I never thought it could be of the slightest consequence to us. But I meant to warn you for the twelfth—to say nothing to him in conversation about married life or divorce. Oh, but this is ridiculous.” Mr. Verinder walked about the room, frowning. “Emmeline! No, no. Whatever fancy—It must be stopped at once. Emmeline must be told the facts of the case, and she must dismiss all thought about him. It can be nothing, so far.”
“I fear,” said Mrs. Verinder, “that she has been going about with him.”
“What makes you think that?”
Mrs. Verinder explained.
“It is very wrong of him,” said Mr. Verinder indignantly. “It is very wrong of him in the circumstances.” He felt alarm now as well as indignation, and he came to the front of Mrs. Verinder and spoke with frowning emphasis. “That sort of man might be very dangerous—unscrupulous—reckless of consequences. I don’t like this at all.”
Then he walked about the room again, reflecting upon the manner in which he should break the unpalatable news to Emmeline. He felt that it was a delicate business and one demanding tact; for no sensitive self-respecting young lady can fail to suffer from the sting of wounded pride when she learns that a man with no right to pay specially marked attentions to anybody has been paying them to her. On the other hand, if the attentions have not been special or marked, then in responding by any relaxment of reserve she has made a fool of herself—and she won’t like that either. However, he was soon ready for his task, and both of them went upstairs to Emmeline in the music-room.
There, in the music-room, occurred what Mrs. Verinder called “a scene.” It was the first real scene that had ever broken the tranquil atmosphere of the house since the family had occupied it; but as many other scenes were soon to follow, one may perhaps indicate the developments of this one by synopsis.
Miss Verinder, coming from the piano where she had been playing, was informed by her father of the fact—Mr. Dyke not in a position to marry, for the simple reason that Mr. Dyke is already married. In these circumstances an obvious necessity to open her eyes; and an equally obvious necessity for her and the rest of the family to drop Mr. Dyke like a hot potato.