impinge upon his creed. What would come after, though full of unpleasant
possibilities, he left to the future. His real disquiet, far nearer, far
more primitive and simple, was the feeling of drifting helplessly in a
current so strong that he could not keep his feet.

"Ah yes; a bad case. Dreadful thing for the Sweetenhams! That young
fellow's been obliged to give up the Army. Can't think what old
Sweetenham was about. He must have known his son was hit. I should say
Bethany himself was the only one in the dark. There's no doubt Lady Rose
was to blame!" Mr. Pendyce was speaking.

Mrs. Bellew smiled.

"My sympathies are all with Lady Rose. What do you say, George?"

George frowned.

"I always thought," he said, "that Bethany was an ass."

"George," said Mr. Pendyce, "is immoral. All young men are immoral. I
notice it more and more. You've given up your hunting, I hear."

Mrs. Bellew sighed.

"One can't hunt on next to nothing!"

"Ah, you live in London. London spoils everybody. People don't take the
interest in hunting and farming they used to. I can't get George here at
all. Not that I'm a believer in apron-strings. Young men will be young
men!"