“Am I?” said Dr. Martineau and brought a scrutinizing eye to bear on Sir Richmond’s face.

“I want to go on talking to Miss Grammont for a day or so,” Sir Richmond admitted.

“Then I shall prefer to leave your party.”

There were some moments of silence.

“I am really very sorry to find myself in this dilemma,” said Sir Richmond with a note of genuine regret in his voice.

“It is not a dilemma,” said Dr. Martineau, with a corresponding loss of asperity.  “I grant you we discover we differ upon a question of taste and convenience.  But before I suggested this trip, I had intended to spend a little time with my old friend Sir Kenelm Latter at Bournemouth.  Nothing simpler than to go to him now....”

“I shall be sorry all the same.”

“I could have wished,” said the doctor, “that these ladies had happened a little later....”

The matter was settled.  Nothing more of a practical nature remained to be said.  But neither gentleman wished to break off with a harsh and bare decision.

“When the New Age is here,” said Sir Richmond, “then, surely, a friendship between a man and a woman will not be subjected to the—­the inconveniences your present code would set about it?  They would travel about together as they chose?”

“The fundamental principle of the new age,” said the doctor, “will be Honi soit qui mal y pense.  In these matters.  With perhaps Fay ce que vouldras as its next injunction.  So long as other lives are not affected.  In matters of personal behaviour the world will probably be much more free and individuals much more open in their conscience and honour than they have ever been before.  In matters of property, economics and public conduct it will probably be just the reverse.  Then, there will be much more collective control and much more insistence, legal insistence, upon individual responsibility.  But we are not living in a new age yet; we are living in the patched-up ruins of a very old one.  And you—­if you will forgive me—­are living in the patched up remains of a life that had already had its complications.  This young lady, whose charm and cleverness I admit, behaves as if the new age were already here.  Well, that may be a very dangerous mistake both for her and for you....  This affair, if it goes on for a few days more, may involve very serious consequences indeed, with which I, for one, do not wish to be involved.”

Sir Richmond, upon the hearthrug, had a curious feeling that he was back in the head master’s study at Caxton.

Dr. Martineau went on with a lucidity that Sir Richmond found rather trying, to give his impression of Miss Grammont and her position in life.

“She is,” he said, “manifestly a very expensively educated girl.  And in many ways interesting.  I have been watching her.  I have not been favoured with very much of her attention, but that fact has enabled me to see her in profile.  Miss Seyffert is a fairly crude mixture of frankness, insincerity and self-explanatory egotism, and I have been able to disregard a considerable amount of the conversation she has addressed to me.  Now I guess this Miss Grammont has had no mother since she was quite little.”