Of course this rumour soon got to the rest of the family and they had to tell Celeste, because she was frantic with anxiety.  There were grave consultations among the Castleman ladies.  It was a wanton affront to his fiancée that the boy had committed, and something must be done about it quickly.  Then came the news that Roger had escaped from his warders, and got drunker than ever; he had been out at night, smashing the street lamps, and it had required extreme self-control on the part of the town police force to avoid complications.

“Miss Margaret” went to her young daughter, and in a tear-flooded scene informed her of the opinion of the family, that her self-respect required the breaking of the engagement.  Celeste went into hysterics.  She would not have her happiness ruined for life!  Roger was “wild,” but so were all the other boys—­and he would atone for his recklessness.  She had the idea that if only she could get hold of him, she could recall him to his senses; the more her mother was scandalised by this proposal, the more frantically Celeste wept.  She shut herself up in her room, refusing to appear at meals, and spending her time pacing the floor and wringing her hands.

The family had been through all this with their eldest daughter several years before, but they had not learned to handle it any better.  The whole household was in a state of distraction, and the conditions grew worse day by day, as bulletins came in concerning the young man.  He seemed to have gone actually insane.  He was not to be restrained even by his own father, and if the unfortunate policemen could be believed, he had violently attacked them.  Apparently he was trying to break down the unwritten law that the sons of the “best families” are not arrested.

Poor Celeste, with pale, tear-drenched face, sent for her elder sister, to make one last appeal.  Could Sylvia not somehow get hold of Roger and bring him to his senses?  Could she not interview some of the other boys, and find out what he meant by his conduct?

So Sylvia went to her cousin Clive, and had a talk with him—­assuredly the most remarkable talk that that young man had ever had in his life.  She told him that she wanted to know the truth about Roger Peyton, and after a cross-examination that would have made the reputation of a criminal lawyer, she got what she wanted.  All the young men in town, it seemed, knew the true state of affairs, and were in a panic concerning it; that Major Castleman had sent for Roger and informed him that he could not marry his daughter, until he produced a certain kind of medical certificate.  No, he couldn’t produce it!  Was there a fellow in town who could produce it?  What was there for him to do but to get drunk and stay drunk, until Celeste had cast him off?

It was Clive’s turn then to do some plain speaking.  “Look here, Sylvia,” he said, “since you have made me talk about this——­”