hall be paid; but I warn you, Percy, there
must be an end to this wicked and foolish extravagance. I say there must
be an end to it. I do not want to threaten you, but----"

"Threaten!" came the younger man's voice, which was almost insolent and
rather thick, as if he had been drinking too much wine. "No, I don't
suppose you do. After all, I've got to live. I'm your son----"

"Do not hesitate," said the Marquess. "You would add, my heir. I do not
forget it. But do not count too much on the fact. I say to you, do not
count too much on it. Percy!" His tone changed to a pleading one. "For
Heaven's sake, take heed to what I say. Do not try me too much. There
are reasons----"

His voice broke and ceased; with a glance at Celia and a shrug, Lady
Heyton opened the door widely, and went into the hall.

"I have been making the acquaintance of Miss Grant," Celia heard her
say, with an affectation of casualness. "Are you two going into the
smoking-room; may I come with you? I shall feel so lonely in that big,
solemn drawing-room."

"Miss Grant in there?" said Lord Heyton, with a nod towards the library.
"I should like to make her acquaintance, too."

He took a step towards the door; but Celia closed it and went quickly
into the room beyond; and soon afterwards, when the coast was clear,
went up to her own room.

CHAPTER XVI

Not only on her own account, but on that of the Marquess, Celia
regretted keenly the advent of Lord and Lady Heyton at the Hall. Of the
man, Celia had formed a most unfavourable opinion, and she could not but
see that his wife, beautiful as she was, was shallow, vain, and
unreliable, the kind of woman who would always act on impulse, whether
it were a good or evil one. Such a woman is more dangerous than a
deliberately wicked and absolutely heartless one.

The coming of these two persons had broken up the quiet and serenity of
the great house; she felt sorry for the Marquess, who had been forced
almost into an open quarrel with his son on this first night; and she
felt sorry for herself; for she had taken an instinctive dislike to Lord
Heyton, and knew that she would have hard work to avoid him. There are
men whose look, when it is bent upon a woman, is an insult; the touch of
whose hand is a contamination; and Celia felt that Lord Heyton was one
of these men. She shut herself up in the library the next morning, and
though she heard him in the hall, and was afflicted by the pungent
cigarette