This low rumour, or malaria, began blowing in the winter, and did not travel fast; for strangely, there was hardly a breath of it in the atmosphere of Dacier, none in Diana’s.  It rose from groups not so rapidly and largely mixing, and less quick to kindle; whose crazy sincereness battened on the smallest morsel of fact and collected the fictitious by slow absorption.  But as guardians of morality, often doing good duty in their office, they are persistent.  When Parliament assembled, Mr. Quintin Manx, a punctual member of the House, if nothing else, arrived in town.  He was invited to dine with Lady Wathin.  After dinner she spoke to him of the absent Constance, and heard of her being well, and expressed a great rejoicing at that.  Whereupon the burly old shipowner frowned and puffed.  Constance, he said, had plunged into these new spangle, candle and high singing services; was all for symbols, harps, effigies, what not.  Lady Wathin’s countenance froze in hearing of it.  She led Mr. Quintin to a wall-sofa, and said:  ’Surely the dear child must have had a disappointment, for her to have taken to those foolish displays of religion!  It is generally a sign.’

’Well, ma’am-my lady—­I let girls go their ways in such things.  I don’t interfere.  But it’s that fellow, or nobody, with her.  She has fixed her girl’s mind on him, and if she can’t columbine as a bride, she will as a nun.  Young people must be at some harlequinade.’

‘But it is very shocking.  And he?’

’He plays last and loose, warm and cold.  I’m ready to settle twenty times a nobleman’s dowry on my niece and she’s a fine girl, a handsome girl, educated up to the brim, fit to queen it in any drawing-room.  He holds her by some arts that don’t hold him, it seems.  He’s all for politics.’

‘Constance can scarcely be his dupe so far, I should think.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Everything points to one secret of his conduct.’

‘A woman?’

Lady Wathin’s head shook for her sex’s pained affirmative.

Mr. Quintin in the same fashion signified the downright negative.  ’The fellow’s as cold as a fish.’

‘Flattery will do anything.  There is, I fear, one.’

‘Widow? wife? maid?’

‘Married, I regret to say.’

‘Well, if he’d get over with it,’ said Quintin, in whose notions the seductiveness of a married woman could be only temporary, for all the reasons pertaining to her state.  At the same time his view of Percy Dacier was changed in thinking it possible that a woman could divert him from his political and social interests.  He looked incredulous.

‘You have heard of a Mrs. Warwick?’ said Lady Wathin.

’Warwick!  I have.  I’ve never seen her.  At my broker’s in the City yesterday I saw the name on a Memorandum of purchase of Shares in a concern promising ten per cent., and not likely to carry the per annum into the plural.  He told me she was a grand kind of woman, past advising.’