He heard the duet at Mrs. Cormyn’s; and he imagined a hearing of his Fredi’s Opera, and her godmother’s delight in it; the once famed Sanfredini’s consent to be the diva at a rehearsal, and then her compelling her hidalgo duque to consent further:  an event not inconceivable.  For here was downright genius; the flowering aloe of the many years in formation; and Colney admitted the song to have a streak of genius; though he would pettishly and stupidly say, that our modern newspaper Press is able now to force genius for us twenty or so to the month, excluding Sundays-our short pauses for the incubation of it.  Real rare genius was in that song, nothing forced; and exquisite melody; one of those melodies which fling gold chains about us and lead us off, lead us back into Eden.  Victor hummed at bars of it on the drive homeward.  His darlings had to sing it again in the half-lighted drawing-room.  The bubble-happiness of the three was vexed only by tidings heard from Colney during the evening of a renewed instance of Skepsey’s misconduct.  Priscilla Graves had hurried away to him at the close of Mr. John Cormyn’s Concert, in consequence; in grief and in sympathy.  Skepsey was to appear before the magistrate next morning, for having administered physical chastisement to his wife during one of her fits of drunkenness.  Colney had seen him.  His version of the story was given, however, in the objectionable humorous manner:  none could gather from it of what might be pleaded for Skepsey.  His ’lesson to his wife in the art of pugilism, before granting her Captain’s rank among the Defensive Amazons of Old England,’ was the customary patent absurdity.  But it was odd, that Skepsey always preferred his appeal for help to Colney Durance.  Nesta proposed following Priscilla that night.  She had hinted her wish, on the way home; she was urgent, beseeching, when her father lifted praises of her:  she had to start with her father by the train at seven in the morning, and she could not hear of poor Skepsey for a number of hours.  She begged a day’s delay; which would enable her, she said, to join them in dining at the Blachingtons’, and seeing dear Lakelands again.  ’I was invited, you know.’  She spoke in childish style, and under her eyes she beheld her father and mother exchange looks.  He had a fear that Nataly might support the girl’s petition.  Nataly read him to mean, possible dangers among the people at Wrensham.  She had seemed hesitating.  After meeting Victor’s look, her refusal was firm.  She tried to make it one of distress for the use of the hard word to her own dear girl.  Nesta spied beneath.

But what was it?  There was a reason for her going!  She had a right to stay, and see and talk with Captain Dartrey, and she was to be deported!

So now she set herself to remember little incidents at Creckholt:  particularly a conversation in a very young girl’s hearing, upon Sir Humphrey and Lady Pottil’s behaviour to the speakers, her parents.  She had then, and she now had, an extraordinary feeling, as from a wind striking upon soft summer weather off regions of ice, that she was in her parents’ way.  How?  The feeling was irrational; it could give her no reply, or only the multitudinous which are the question violently repeated.  She slept on it.