Ferrier listened attentively; took note of what she reported as to Sir James’s fresh evidence; and when she ceased called upon Chide to explain.  Chide’s second defence of Juliet Sparling as given to a fellow-lawyer was a remarkable piece of technical statement, admirably arranged, and unmarked by any trace of the personal feeling he had not been able to hide from Lady Lucy.

“Most interesting—­most interesting,” murmured Ferrier, as the story came to an end.  “A tragic and memorable case.”

He pondered a little, his eyes on the carpet, while the others waited.  Then he turned to Lady Lucy and took her hand.

“Dear lady!” he said, gently, “I think—­you ought to give way!”

Lady Lucy’s face quivered a little.  She decidedly withdrew her hand.

“I am sorry you are both against me,” she said, looking from one to the other.  “I am sorry you help Oliver to think unkindly of me.  But if I must stand alone, I must.  I cannot give way.”

Ferrier raised his eyebrows with a little perplexed look.  Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he went to stand by the fire, staring down into it a minute or two, as though the flames might bring counsel.

“Miss Mallory is still ignorant, Oliver—­is that so?” he said, at last.

“Entirely.  But it is not possible she should continue to be so.  She has begun to make inquiries, and I agree with Sir James it is right she should be told—­”

“I propose to go down to Beechcote to-morrow,” put in Sir James.

“Have you any idea what view Miss Mallory would be likely to take of the matter—­as affecting her engagement?”

“She could have no view that was not unselfish and noble—­like herself,” said Marsham, hotly.  “What has that to do with it?” [Illustration:  “‘DEAR LADY,’ HE SAID, GENTLY, ‘I THINK YOU OUGHT TO GIVE WAY!’”]

“She might release you,” was Ferrier’s slow reply.

Marsham flushed.

“And you think I should be such a hound as to let her!”

Sir James only just prevented himself from throwing a triumphant look at his hostess.

“You will, of course, inform her of your mother’s opposition?” said Ferrier.

“It will be impossible to keep it from her.”

“Poor child!” murmured Ferrier—­“poor child!”

Then he looked at Lady Lucy.

“May I take Oliver into the inner room a little while?” he asked, pointing to a farther drawing-room.

“By all means.  I shall be here when you return.”

Sir James had a few hurried words in private with Marsham, and then took his leave.  As he and Lady Lucy shook hands, he gave her a penetrating look.

“Try and think of the girl!” he said, in a low voice; “the girl—­in her first youth.”

“I think of my son,” was the unmoved reply.  “Good-bye, Sir James.  I feel that we are adversaries, and I wish it were not so.”