John Hubbard's mind was made up on the spot.
"You will never marry Miss Brunel, Fred," he said, quietly.
"Why?" said the other, suddenly putting down the glass he had been lifting.
"Simply because her relatives on the father's side won't allow it."
"You said they——"
"They are content to say nothing while they hope to secure the reversion of the property through Miss Brunel's dying intestate," said John Hubbard, calmly, though his eyebrows were twitching nervously. "When, however, they understand that you, a brother of mine, and therefore likely to know how matters stand, are about to marry Miss Brunel, they will inform her of her true position, and implore her not to marry a man beneath her in rank. And you know, Fred, they will be able to point to your previous silence as a witness against you."
The first impulse of Count Schönstein was to dart an angry glance at the pale, quiet little man before him, as though the latter had dealt him an unprovoked blow; then, when he saw in his brother's calm face only corroborative testimony of the appalling truth he had uttered, the Count leant back in his chair, unable to conceal his fright and dismay.
At that moment, Master Alexander entered the room, and said:
"Please, Uncle Frederick, mamma says coffee is in the drawing-room, and will you come and have some?"
"Yes, yes, my boy," said the Count, jumping up from his chair.