"It's out--and all over the place," Drusilla answered, tearfully. "We're
the only people who haven't known it--but it's always that way with
those who are most concerned."

"And over three hundred guests invited to Olivia's wedding next Thursday
fortnight! And the British Military Attaché coming from Washington! And
Lord Woolwich from Ottawa! What's to happen _I_ don't know."

Mrs. Temple raised her hands and let them drop heavily.

"Oh, Peter, can't you do anything?"

"What can he do, child? If Henry's been making away with all that money
it would take a fortune to--"

"Oh, men can do things--in business," Drusilla asserted. "I know they
can. Banks lend them money, _don't_ they, Peter? Banks are always
lending money to tide people over. I've often heard of it. Oh, Peter,
_do_ something. I'm so glad you're here. It seems like a providence."

"Colonel Ashley will be here next week, too," Mrs. Temple groaned, as
though the fact brought comfort.

"Oh, mother dear, don't _speak_ of him!" Drusilla put up her two hands,
palms outward, before her averted face, as though to banish the
suggestion. "If you'd ever known him you'd see how impossible--how
_impossible_--this kind of situation is for a man like him. Poor, poor
Olivia! It's impossible for her, too, I know; but then we
Americans--well, we're more used to things. But one thing is certain,