had at the last--while the girl was on the way to Brindisi.

So, of course, for those three years or so, Leonora had many
agitations. And it was then that they really quarrelled.

Yes, they quarrelled bitterly. That seems rather extravagant. You
might have thought that Leonora would be just calmly loathing
and he lachrymosely contrite. But that was not it a bit . . . Along
with Edward's passions and his shame for them went the violent
conviction of the duties of his station--a conviction that was quite
unreasonably expensive. I trust I have not, in talking of his
liabilities, given the impression that poor Edward was a
promiscuous libertine. He was not; he was a sentimentalist. The
servant girl in the Kilsyte case had been pretty, but mournful of
appearance. I think that, when he had kissed her, he had desired
rather to comfort her. And, if she had succumbed to his
blandishments I daresay he would have set her up in a little house
in Portsmouth or Winchester and would have been faithful to her
for four or five years. He was quite capable of that.

No, the only two of his affairs of the heart that cost him money
were that of the Grand Duke's mistress and that which was the
subject of the blackmailing letter that Leonora opened. That had
been a quite passionate affair with quite a nice woman. It had
succeeded the one with the Grand Ducal lady. The lady was the
wife of a brother officer and Leonora had known all about the
passion, which had been quite a real passion and had lasted for
several years. You see, poor Edward's passions were quite logical
in their progression upwards. They began with a servant, went on
to a courtesan and then to a quite nice woman, very unsuitably