“Upon my honour, nothing.  I think you will do wisely to leave these two people to take their own way in the future without any interference on your part.  You speak of watchful friendship and all that kind of thing, and I can quite appreciate your disinterested desire to befriend the woman whom you once hoped to make your wife.  But, believe me, my dear Fenton, no manner of good can possibly come of your intervention.  Those two have chosen their road in life, and must travel along it, side by side, through good or evil fortune.  Holbrook would naturally be jealous of any friendship between his wife and you; while such a friendship could not fail to keep alive bitter thoughts in your mind—­could not fail to sharpen the regret which you fancy just now is to be life-long.  I have no doubt I seem to speak in a hard worldly spirit.”

“You speak like a man of the world, Sir David,” the other answered quietly; “and I cannot deny that there is a certain amount of wisdom in your advice.  No, my friendship is not wanted by either of those two, supposing even that I were generous enough to be able to give it to both.  I have learnt that lesson already from Marian herself.  But you must remember that I promised her poor old grandfather—­the man who died a few days ago—­that I would watch over her interests with patient fidelity, that I would be her friend and protector, if ever the hour should come in which she would need friendship and protection.  I am not going to forget this promise, or to neglect its performance; and in order to be true to my word, I am bound to make myself acquainted with the circumstances of her married life, and the character of her husband.”

“Cannot you be satisfied with knowing that she is happy?”

“I have seen her, Sir David, and am by no means assured of her happiness.”

“And yet it was a love-match on both sides.  Holbrook, as I have told you, loved her passionately.”

“That passionate kind of love is apt to wear itself out very quickly with some men.  Your bailiff’s daughter complained bitterly of Mr. Holbrook’s frequent absence from the Grange, of the dulness and loneliness of my poor girl’s life.”

“Women are apt to be exacting,” Sir David answered with a deprecating shrug of the shoulders.  “My friend Holbrook has the battle of life to fight, and could not spend all his days playing the lover.  If his wife has had money left her, that will make some difference in their position.  A man is never at his best when he is worried by debts and financial difficulties.”

“And Mr. Holbrook was in debt when he married, I suppose?”

“He was.  I must confess that I find that complaint a very common one among my acquaintance,” the Baronet added with a laugh.

“Will you tell me what this Holbrook is like in person, Sir David?  I have questioned several people about him, and have never obtained anything beyond the vaguest kind of description.”