That good person, a motherly old lady of over sixty, was not only
surprised but delighted by the advent of David Hume.

"My dear boy," she cried, advancing to meet him with outstretched hands
when he entered the morning-room. "What fortunate wind has blown you
here?"

"I can hardly tell you, auntie," he said--both Helen and he adopted the
pleasing fiction of a relationship that did not exist--"you must ask Mr.
Brett."

Thus appealed to, the barrister set forth, in a few explicit words, the
object of their visit.

"I hope and believe you will succeed," said Mrs. Eastham impulsively.
"Providence has guided your steps here at this hour. You cannot imagine
how miserable that man Capella makes me."

"Why?" cried Hume, darting a look of surprise at Brett.

"Because he is simply pestering Nellie with his attentions. There! I must
speak plainly. He has gone to extremes that can no longer be
misinterpreted. In our small community, Mr. Brett," she explained, "though
we dearly love a little gossip, we are slow to believe that a man married
to such a charming if somewhat unconventional woman as Margaret
Hume-Frazer--I cannot train my tongue to call her Mrs. Capella--would
deliberately neglect his wife and dare to demonstrate his unlawful
affection for another woman, especially such a girl as Helen Layton."