see whether you had heard of Guy lately, so as to judge whether it was
needful to speak of it. This convinces me; but I must beg, in the first
instance, that you will not mention her, not even to my aunt.'

'Well, yes; very well. I promise. Only let me hear.'

'Young Harewood has, I fear, led him into bad company. There can now be
no doubt that he has been gambling.'

Philip was not prepared for the effect of these words. His uncle started
up, exclaiming--'Gambling! Impossible! Some confounded slander! I
don't believe one word of it! I won't hear such things said of him,' he
repeated, stammering with passion, and walking violently about the room.
This did not last long; there was something in the unmoved way in which
Philip waited till he had patience to listen, which gradually mastered
him; his angry manner subsided, and, sitting down, he continued the
argument, in a would-be-composed voice.

'It is utterly impossible! Remember, he thinks himself bound not so much
as to touch a billiard cue.'

'I could have thought it impossible, but for what I have seen of the
way in which promises are eluded by persons too strictly bound,' said
Philip. 'The moral force of principle is the only efficient pledge.'

'Principle! I should like to see who has better principles than Guy!'
cried Mr. Edmonstone. 'You have said so yourself, fifty times, and your
aunt has said so, and Charles. I could as soon suspect myself.' He was
growing vehement, but again Philip's imperturbability repressed his
violence, and he asked, 'Well, what evidence have you? Mind, I am not
going to believe it without the strongest. I don't know that I would
believe my own eyes against him.'

'It is very sad to find such confidence misplaced,' said Philip. 'Most
sincerely do I wish this could be proved to be a mistake; but this
extraordinary request corroborates my sister's letter too fully.'

'Let me hear,' said Mr. Edmonstone feebly. Philip produced his letter,
without reading the whole of it; for he could not bear the appearance of
gossip and prying, and would not expose his sister; so he pieced it out
with his own words, and made it sound far less discreditable to her. It
was quite enough for Mr. Edmonstone; the accuracy of the details seemed
to strike him dumb; and there was a long silence, which he broke by
saying, with a deep sigh,--

'Who could have thought it? Poor little Amy!'

'Amy?' exclaimed Philip.

'Why, ay. I did not mean to have said anyt