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“Don’t let us be hypocrites, gentlemen, and pretend that we always carry out that to which in moments of midsummer madness we commit ourselves. My client will tell you quite simply, for he is a simple country youth, that he just made a mistake which no one regrets more than he, and then I shall leave it in your hands—confident that, sorry as we all are for the disappointment of this charming girl, you will assess the real values of the case with the instinct of shrewd and understanding men.”

“Well, I’m darned!”

“H’sh! Silence in the court!”

The mutter which had been riven from Steer by counsel’s closing words, by no means adequately expressed feelings which grew with every monosyllable from that ‘young ruffian’ answering the cunning questions of his advocate.

With his sleek, bullet head he looked sheepish enough, but the thing was being made so easy for him—that was what seemed villainous to Steer, that and the sight of Bowden’s face, unmoved, the breadth of two pigs away. When his own counsel began to cross-examine, Steer became conscious that he had made a hideous mistake. Why had he not caused his lawyer to drag in the girl Pansy? What on earth had he been about to let his natural secretiveness, his pride in his niece, prevent his using the weapon which would have alienated every sympathy from that young rascal. He tingled with disappointed anger. So the fellow was not to be shown up properly! It was outrageous. And then suddenly his ears pricked. “Now, young man,” counsel was saying, “don’t you think that in days like these you can serve your country better than by going about breaking girls’ hearts?... Kindly answer that question!... Don’t waste his lordship’s time. Yes? Speak up, please!”