“Not quite so much; pretty near.”

“For instance, he can marry?”

“That’s not a criminal case, you know.”

“And the marriage is valid?”

“You can dispute it.”

“Yes, and the Greeks and the Trojans can fight.  It holds then?”

“Both water and fire!”

The patriarch of the table sang out to Adrian that he stopped the vigorous circulation of the claret.

“Dear me, sir!” said Adrian, “I beg pardon.  The circumstances must excuse me.  The fact is, my cousin Richard got married to a dairymaid this morning, and I wanted to know whether it held in law.”

It was amusing to watch the manly coolness with which the announcement was taken.  Nothing was heard more energetic than, “Deuce he has!” and, “A dairymaid!”

“I thought it better to let the ladies dine in peace,” Adrian continued.  “I wanted to be able to console my aunt”—­

“Well, but—­well, but,” the old gentleman, much the most excited, puffed—­“eh, Brandon?  He’s a boy, this young ass!  Do you mean to tell me a boy can go and marry when he pleases, and any troll he pleases, and the marriage is good?  If I thought that I’d turn every woman off my premises.  I would! from the housekeeper to the scullery-maid.  I’d have no woman near him till—­till”—­

“Till the young greenhorn was grey, sir?” suggested Brandon.

“Till he knew what women are made of, sir!” the old gentleman finished his sentence vehemently.  “What, d’ye think, will Feverel say to it, Mr. Adrian?”

“He has been trying the very System you have proposed sir—­one that does not reckon on the powerful action of curiosity on the juvenile intelligence.  I’m afraid it’s the very worst way of solving the problem.”

“Of course it is,” said Clarence.  “None but a fool!”—­

“At your age,” Adrian relieved his embarrassment, “it is natural, my dear Clarence, that you should consider the idea of an isolated or imprisoned manhood something monstrous, and we do not expect you to see what amount of wisdom it contains.  You follow one extreme, and we the other.  I don’t say that a middle course exists.  The history of mankind shows our painful efforts to find one, but they have invariably resolved themselves into asceticism, or laxity, acting and reacting.  The moral question is, if a naughty little man, by reason of his naughtiness, releases himself from foolishness, does a foolish little man, by reason of his foolishness, save himself from naughtiness?”

A discussion, peculiar to men of the world, succeeded the laugh at Mr. Clarence.  Then coffee was handed round and the footman informed Adrian, in a low voice, that Mrs. Doria Forey particularly wished to speak with him.  Adrian preferred not to go in alone.  “Very well,” he said, and sipped his coffee.  They talked on, sounding the depths of law in Brandon Forey, and receiving nought but hollow echoes from that profound cavity.  He would not affirm that the marriage was invalid:  he would not affirm that it could not be annulled.  He thought not:  still he thought it would be worth trying.  A consummated and a non-consummated union were two different things....