"Then you do still mingle with the great and gorgeous?" I said.

"What do you mean? Why shouldn't I?"

I laughed, suspecting rightly that my sisters' social position had not
been greatly imperilled by the profligacy of their scandal-bespattered
brother.

"What are people saying about me?" I asked suddenly.

She made a helpless gesture. "Can't you guess? You have told us the
facts, and, of course, we believe you; we have done our best to spread
abroad the correct version--but you know what people are. If they're
told they oughtn't to believe the worst, they're disappointed and still
go on believing it so as to comfort themselves."

"You cynical little wretch!" said I.

"But it's true," she urged. "And, after all, even if they were well
disposed, the correct version makes considerable demands on their faith.
Even Letty Farfax--"

"I know! I know!" said I. "Letty Farfax is typical. She would love to
be on the side of the angels, but as she wouldn't meet the best people
there, she ranges herself with the other party."

Presently we dined, and during the meal, when the servants happened
to be out of the room, we continued, snippet-wise, the inconclusive
conversation. Like a good sister Agatha had come to cheer a lonely and
much abused man; like a daughter of Eve she had also come to find out as
much as she possibly could.

"I think I must tell you something which you ought to know," she said.
"It's all over the town that you stole the lady from Dale Kynnersley."

"If I did," said I, "it was at his mother's earnest entreaty. You can
tell folks that. You can also tell them Madame Brandt is not the kind
of woman to be stolen by one man from another. She is a thoroughly
virtuous, good, and noble woman, and there's not a creature living who
wouldn't be honoured by her friendship."

As I made this announcement with an impetuosity which reminded me (with
a twinge of remorse) of poor Dale's dithyrambics, Agatha shot at me a
quick glance of apprehension.

"But, my dear Simon, she used to act in a circus with a horse!"

"I fail to see," said I, growing angry, "how the horse could have imbued
her with depravity, and I'm given to understand that the tone of the
circus is not quite what it used to be in the days of the Empress
Theodora."

A ripple passed over Agatha's bare shoulders, which I knew to be a
suppressed shrug.

"I suppose men and women look at these things differently," she
remarked, and from the stiffne