’I utterly deny it.  I positively deny it.  I know nothing of the circumstances; have heard nothing about it—­’

‘Then of course you can’t say,’ said Lady Arabella.

‘I know nothing of the circumstance; have heard nothing about it,’ continued Dr Thorne; ’but I do know my niece, and am ready to assert that there has not been fault on both sides.  Whether there has been any fault on any side, that I do not know.’

’I can assure you, Dr Thorne, that an offer was made by Frank; such an offer cannot be without its allurements to a young lady circumstanced like your niece.’

‘Allurements!’ almost shouted the doctor, and, as he did so, Lady Arabella stepped back a pace or two, retreating from the fire which shot out of his eyes.  ’But the truth is, Lady Arabella, you do not know my niece.  If you will have the goodness to let me understand what it is that you desire I will tell you whether I can comply with your wishes.’

’Of course it will be very inexpedient that the young people should be thrown together again;—­for the present, I mean.’

‘Well!’

’Frank has now gone to Courcy Castle; and he talks of going from thence to Cambridge.  But he will doubtless be here, backwards and forwards; and perhaps it will be better for all parties—­safer, that is, doctor—­if Miss Thorne were to discontinue her visits to Greshamsbury for a while.’

‘Very well!’ thundered out the doctor.  ’Her visits to Greshamsbury shall be discontinued.’

’Of course, doctor, this won’t change intercourse between us; between you and the and the family.’

‘Not change it!’ said he.  ’Do you think that I will break bread in a house from whence she has been ignominiously banished?  Do you think that I can sit in friendship with those who have spoken of her as you have now spoken?  You have many daughters; what would you say if I accused them one of them as you have accused her?’

’Accused, doctor!  No, I don’t accuse her.  But prudence, you know, does sometimes require us—­’

’Very well; prudence requires you to look after those who belong to you.  And prudence requires me to look after my one lamb.  Good morning, Lady Arabella.’

’But, doctor, you are not going to quarrel with us?  You will come when we want you; eh! won’t you?’

Quarrel! quarrel with Greshamsbury!  Angry as he was, the doctor felt that he could ill bear to quarrel with Greshamsbury.  A man past fifty cannot easily throw over the ties that have taken twenty years to form, and wrench himself away from the various close ligatures with which, in such a period, he has become bound.  He could not quarrel with the squire; he could ill bear to quarrel with Frank; though he now began to conceive that Frank had used him badly, he could not do so; he could not quarrel with the children, who had almost been born into his arms; nor even with the very walls, and trees, and grassy knolls with which he was so dearly intimate.  He could not proclaim himself an enemy to Greshamsbury; and yet he felt that fealty to Mary required of him that, for the present, he should put on an enemy’s guise.