had
been told the secret about Theo, which in the meantime had become less
and less of a secret, though even now it was not formally made known.
Lady Markland! Dick had been startled by the news, though he declared
afterwards that he could not tell why: for that it was the most natural
thing in the world. Had not they been thrown together in all kinds of
ways; had not Theo been inevitably brought into her society, almost
compelled to see her constantly?

"The compulsion was of his own making," Mrs. Warrender said. "Perhaps
Lady Markland, with more experience, should have perceived what it was
leading to."

"It is so difficult to tell what anything is leading to, especially in
such matters. What may be but a mutual attraction one day becomes a bond
that never can be broken the next."

Dick's voice changed while he was speaking. Perhaps he was not aware
himself of the additional gravity in it, but his audience was instantly
aware of it. That was the evening they had gone to Richmond; the softest
summer evening, twilight just falling; Chatty, very silent, absorbed (as
appeared) in the responsibilities of steering; the conversation going on
entirely between her mother and Dick, who sat facing them, pulling long,
slow, meditative strokes. Even when one is absorbed by the responsibilities
of the steerage, one can enter into all the lights and shades of a
conversation kept up by two other people, almost better than they can do
themselves.

"That is true in some cases. Not in Theo's, I think. It seems to me that
he gave himself over from the first. I am not sure that I think her a
very attractive woman."

"Oh yes, mamma!" from Chatty, in an undertone.

"I am not talking of looks. She has a good deal of power about her, she
will not be easily swayed; and after having suffered a great deal in her
first marriage I think she has very quickly developed the power of acting
for herself which some women never attain."

"So much the better," said Dick. "Theo doesn't want a puppet of a wife."

"But he wants a wife who will give in to him," said Mrs. Warrender
slightly shaking her head.

"I suppose we all do that, in theory: then glide into domestic servitude
and like it, and find it the best for us."

"Let us hope you will do that," she said, with a smile; "but not Theo, I
fear. He has been used to be made much of. The only boy, they say, is
always spoiled. You have brothers, Mr. Cavendish,--and he has a temper
which is a li