Paul Montague had fallen into love with his cousin's guest, and there had sprung up much unhappiness.
Lady Carbury and Henrietta had been nearly a month at Carbury, and Paul Montague had been there barely a week, when Roger Carbury thus spoke to the guest who had last arrived.

'I've got to tell you something, Paul.' 'Anything serious ?' 'Very serious to me.

I may say so serious that nothing in my own life can approach it in importance.' He had unconsciously assumed that look, which his friend so thoroughly understood, indicating his resolve to hold to what he believed to be his own, and to fight if fighting be necessary.

Montague knew him well, and became half aware that he had done something, he knew not what, militating against this serious resolve of his friend.

He looked up, but said nothing.