CHAPTER IX

DOCTOR MARY'S ULTIMATUM


Even Captain Alec was not superior to the foibles which beset humanity.
If it had been his conception of duty which impelled him to take a high
line with Beaumaroy, there was now in his feelings, although he did not
realize the fact, an alloy of less precious metal. He had demanded an
ordeal, a test--that he should see Mr. Saffron and judge for himself. The
test had been accepted; he had been worsted in it. His suspicions were
not laid to rest--far from it; but they were left unjustified and
unconfirmed. He had nothing to go upon, nothing to show. He had been
baffled, and, moreover, bantered and almost openly ridiculed. In fact,
Beaumaroy had been too many for him, the subtle rogue!

This conception of the case colored his looks and pointed his words when
Tower Cottage and its occupants were referred to, and most markedly when
he spoke of them to Cynthia Walford; for in talking to her he naturally
allowed himself greater freedom than he did with others; talking to her
had become like talking to himself, so completely did she give him back
what he bestowed on her, and re-echo to his mind its own voice. Such
perfect sympathy induces a free outpouring of inner thoughts, and
reinforces the opinions of which it so unreservedly approves.

Cynthia did more than elicit and reinforce Captain Alec's opinion; she
also disseminated it--at Old Place, at the Irechesters', at Doctor