“Pray excuse this intrusion,” whispered the Rev. George.  “You see the state he is in.  He accosted me near Campden Hill; and I really could not be seen walking with him into town.  I wonder he was not arrested.”

“He is the worse for drink; but he is sober enough to know how to amuse himself at your expense,” said Conolly, aloud.  “Come up to the laboratory.  Miss McQuinch is there.”

“But he is not fit,” urged the clergyman.  “Look at him trying to hang up his hat.  How absurd—­I should rather say how deplorable!  I assure you he is perfectly tipsy.  He has been ringing the bells of the houses, and requesting females to accompany us.  Better warn Elinor.”

“Nonsense!” said Conolly.  “I have some news that will sober him.  Here is Miss McQuinch.  Are you going?”

“Yes,” said Elinor.  “I should lose my patience if I had to listen to George’s comments; and I am tired.  I would rather go.”

“Not yet, Nelly.  Wont um stay and talk to um’s Marmadukes?”

“Let me go,” said Elinor, snatching away her hand, which he had seized.  “You ought to be at home in bed.  You are a sot.”  At this Marmaduke laughed boisterously.  She passed him contemptuously, and left.  The three men then went upstairs, Marmaduke dropping his pretence of drunkenness under the influence of Conolly’s presence.

“Marian is not in, I presume,” said the clergyman, when they were seated.

“No.” said Conolly.  “She has eloped with Douglas.”

They stared at him.  Then Marmaduke gave a long whistle; and the clergyman rose, pale.  “What do you mean, sir?” he said.

Conolly did not answer; and the Rev. George slowly sat down again.

“Well, I’m damned sorry for it,” said Marmaduke, emphatically.  “It was a mean thing for Douglas to do, with all his brag about his honor.”

The Rev. George covered his face with his handkerchief and sobbed.

“Come, shut up, old fellow; and dont make an ass of yourself,” said Marmaduke.  “What are you going to do, Conolly?”

“I must simply divorce her.”

“Go for heavy damages, Conolly.  Knock a few thousand out of him, just to punish him.”

“He could easily afford it.  Besides, why should I punish him?”

“My dear friend,” cried the clergyman, “you must not dream of a divorce.  I implore you to abandon such an idea.  Consider the disgrace, the impiety!  The publicity would kill my father.”

Conolly shook his head.

“There is no such thing as divorce known to the Church.  ’What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.’”

“She had no right to bolt,” said Marmaduke.  “Thats certain.”