“But that is perfectly grand!” I cried in my delight over Miss Josephine as a character.

“It is perfectly natural,” returned Mrs. Gregory, quietly.  “John has behaved with credit throughout.  He was at length made to see that circumstances forbade any breach between his family and that of the other young man.  John held back—­who would not, after such an insult?—­but Miss Josephine was firm, and he has promised to call and shake hands.  My cousin, Doctor Beaugarcon, assures me that the young man’s injuries are trifling—­a week will see him restored and presentable again.”

“A week?  A mere nothing!” I answered “Do you know,” I now suggested, “that you have forgotten to ask me what I was thinking about when we met?”

“Bless me, young gentleman! and was it so remarkable?”

“Not at all, but it partly answers what Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael asked me.  If a young man does not really wish to marry a young woman there are ways well known by which she can be brought to break the engagement.”

“Ah,” said Mrs. Gregory, “of course; gayeties and irregularities—­”

“That is, if he’s not above them,” I hastily subjoined.

“Not always, by any means,” Mrs. Gregory returned.  “Kings Port has been treated to some episodes—­”

Mrs. Weguelin put in a word of defence.  “It is to be said, Maria, that John’s irregularities have invariably been conducted with perfect propriety.”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Gregory, “no Mayrant was ever known to be gross!”

“But this particular young lady,” said Mrs. Weguelin, “would not be estranged by an masculine irregularities and gayeties.  Not many.”

“How about infidelities?” I suggested.  “If he should flagrantly lose his heart to another?”

Mrs. Weguelin replied quickly.  “That answers very well where hearts are in question.”

“But,” said I, “since phosphates are no longer—?”

There was a pause.  “It would be a new dilemma,” Mrs. Gregory then said slowly, “if she turned out to care for him, after all.”

Throughout all this I was getting more and more the sense of how a total circle of people, a well-filled, wide circle of interested people, surrounded and cherished John Mayrant, made itself the setting of which he was the jewel; I felt in it, even stronger than the manifestation of personal affection (which certainly was strong enough), a collective sense of possession in him, a clan value, a pride and a guardianship concentrated and jealous, as of an heir to some princely estate, who must be worthy for the sake of a community even before he was worthy for his own sake.  Thus he might amuse himself—­it was in the code that princely heirs so should pour se deniaiser, as they neatly put it in Paris—­thus might he and must he fight when his dignity was assailed; but thus might he not marry outside certain lines prescribed, or depart from his circle’s established creeds, divine and social, especially to hold any position