‘I have laid the case before the—­where I always take my troubles,’ said Mrs. Malory, ’and I have not felt restrained from coming to consult you.  When I permitted my daughter’s engagement (of course after carefully examining the young man’s worldly position) I was not aware of what I know now.  Matilda met him at a visit to some neighbours—­he really is very attractive, and very attentive—­and it was not till we came to London for the season that I heard the stories about him.  Some of them have been pointed out to me, in print, in the dreadful French newspapers, others came to me in anonymous letters.  As far as a mother may, I tried to warn Matilda, but there are subjects on which one can hardly speak to a girl.  The Vidame, in fact,’ said Mrs. Malory, blushing, ’is celebrated—­I should say infamous—­both in France and Italy, Poland too, as what they call un homme aux bonnes fortunes.  He has caused the break-up of several families.  Mr. Merton, he is a rake,’ whispered the lady, in some confusion.

‘He is still young; he may reform,’ said Merton, ’and no doubt a pure affection will be the saving of him.’

’So Matilda believes, but, though a Protestant—­his ancestors having left France after the Revocation of the Edict of Nancy—­Nantes I mean—­I am certain that he is not under conviction.’

‘Why does he call himself Vidame, “the Vidame de la Lain"?’ asked Merton.

‘It is an affectation,’ said Mrs. Malory.  ’None of his family used the title in England, but he has been much on the Continent, and has lands in France; and, I suppose, has romantic ideas.  He is as much French as English, more I am afraid.  The wickedness of that country!  And I fear it has affected ours.  Even now—­I am not a scandal-monger, and I hope for the best—­but even last winter he was talked about,’ Mrs. Malory dropped her voice, ’with a lady whose husband is in America, Mrs. Brown-Smith.’

‘A lady for whom I have the very highest esteem,’ said Merton, for, indeed, Mrs. Brown-Smith was one of his references or Lady Patronesses; he knew her well, and had a respect for her character, au fond, as well as an admiration for her charms.

‘You console me indeed,’ said Mrs. Malory.  ‘I had heard—­’

‘People talk a great deal of ill-natured nonsense,’ said Merton warmly.  ‘Do you know Mrs. Brown-Smith?’

’We have met, but we are not in the same set; we have exchanged visits, but that is all.’

‘Ah!’ said Merton thoughtfully.  He remembered that when his enterprise was founded Mrs. Brown-Smith had kindly offered her practical services, and that he had declined them for the moment.  ‘Mrs. Malory,’ he went on, after thinking awhile, ’may I take your case into my consideration—­the marriage is not till October, you say, we are in June—­and I may ask for a later interview?  Of course you shall be made fully aware of every detail, and nothing shall be done without your approval.  In fact all will depend on your own co-operation.  I don’t deny that there may be distasteful things, but if you are quite sure about this gentleman’s—­’