Sir Justin, ex-diplomatist, author of a heavy volume of Victorian reminiscences, and confidant of many public personages, was one of her mother's oldest friends; but to her he was only one degree less formidable than the Countess, and quite the last person she would have chosen for consultation upon this, or indeed upon any other subject.
"I am not going to intrust my husband's secrets to him!" she exclaimed.
"I am," replied the Countess.
"But I won't allow it! Rudolph would be----" "Rudolph has only himself to blame.

My dear Alicia, you can trust Sir Justin implicitly.

When my child's happiness is at stake I would consult no one who was not discretion itself.

I am very glad I thought of him." The Baroness burst into tears.
"My child, my child!" said her mother compassionately.

"The world is no Garden of Eden, however much we may all try to make it so." "You--you don't se--seem to be trying now, mamma." "May Heaven forgive you, my darling," pronounced the Countess piously..