‘Why, Charles, what ails you?’ she asked. It seemed to her that there was no one but herself had the right to look solemn.‘My dear fellow, it’s the devil of a business,’ Belfort said severely. ‘A most disgraceful affair, ’pon my soul!’Mr Devereux shook his head. ‘Very, very disgraceful,’ he echoed.‘Lud, sir, you horrify me! What’s toward?’‘Rensley,’ said Belfort, ‘has committed a—damme, a cursed breach of etiquette! You can’t meet the man, Peter. Can he, Dev?’Mr Devereux was of the opinion that it would be impossible.A flush sprang up in Prudence’s cheeks. It was of sudden, overwhelming relief, but Mr Belfort took it to betoken anger. ‘Ay, Peter my boy, I knew you’d take it hard, but positively you can’t meet the man after such a slight.’‘Very shocking business,’ Mr Devereux said mournfully. ‘Can’t understand it at all.’Prudence had command of herself again. If she must not fight it seemed safe enough to protest a little, as was proper.
