TRISTRAM of BLENT

_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_

A MAN OF MARKMR WITT'S WIDOWFATHER STAFFORDA CHANGE OF AIRHALF A HEROTHE PRISONER OF ZENDATHE GOD IN THE CARTHE DOLLY DIALOGUESCOMEDIES OF COURTSHIPTHE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIOTHE HEART OF PRINCESS OSRAPHROSOSIMON DALERUPERT OF HENTZAUTHE KING'S MIRRORQUISANTE

TRISTRAM of BLENT

_An Episode in the Story of an Ancient House_

_By_ ANTHONY HOPE

_New York_MCCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. MCMI

_Copyright, 1900 and 1901, by_ ANTHONY HOPE HAWKINS

_THIRD EDITION_

Trow DirectoryPrinting & Bookbinding CompanyNew York

A TABLE _of the_ CONTENTS _Page_

I. A SUPPRESSED PASSAGE 1II. MR CHOLDERTON'S IMP 10III. ON GUARD 22IV. SHE COULD AN' SHE WOULD 34V. THE FIRST ROUND 48VI. THE ATTRACTION OF IT 61VII. THE MOMENT DRAWS NEAR 74VIII. DUTY AND MR NEELD 88IX. THE MAN IN POSSESSION 101X. BEHOLD THE HEIR! 114XI. A PHANTOM BY THE POOL 129XII. FIGHTERS AND DOUBTERS 143XIII. IN THE LONG GALLERY 158XIV. THE VERY SAME DAY 173XV. AN INQUISITION INTERRUPTED 190XVI. THE NEW LIFE 205XVII. RIVER SCENES AND BRIC-À-BRAC 220XVIII. CONSPIRATORS AND A CRUX 233XIX. IN THE MATTER OF BLINKHAMPTON 248XX. THE TRISTRAM WAY--A SPECIMEN 264XXI. THE PERSISTENCE OF BLENT 279XXII. AN INSULT TO THE BLOOD 296XXIII. A DECREE OF BANISHMENT 312XXIV. AFTER THE END OF ALL 328XXV. THERE'S THE LADY TOO! 342XXVI. A BUSINESS CALL 358XXVII. BEFORE TRANSLATION 375XXVIII. THE CAT AND THE BELL 391XXIX. THE CURMUDGEON 407XXX. TILL THE NEXT GENERATION 420

I

A SUPPRESSED PASSAGE

Mr Jenkinson Neeld was an elderly man of comfortable private means; hehad chambers in Pall Mall, close to the Imperium Club, and his shortstoutish figure, topped by a chubby spectacled face, might be seenentering that dignified establishment every day at lunch time, and alsoat the hour of dinner on the evenings when he had no invitationelsewhere. He had once practised at the Bar, and liked to explain thathe had deserted his profession for the pursuit of literature. He didnot, however, write on his own account; he edited. He would editanything provided there was no great public demand for an edition of it. Regardless of present favor, he appealed to posterity--as gentlemen withprivate means are quite entitled to do. Perhaps he made rather highdemands on posterity; but that was his business--and its. At any ratehis taste was curious and his conscience acute. He was very minute andvery scrupulous, very painstaking and very discreet, in the exercise ofhis duties. Posterity may perhaps like these qualities in an editor ofmemoirs and diaries; for such were Mr Neeld's favorite subjects. Sometimes he fell into a sore struggle between curiosity and discretion, having impulses in himself which he forbore to attribute to posterity. 

He was in just such a fix now--so he thought to himself--as he perusedthe manuscript before him. It was the Journal of his deceased friendJosiah Cholderton, sometime Member of Parliament (in the Liberalinterest) for the borough of Baxton in Yorkshire, Commercial Delegate tothe Congress of Munich in '64, and Inventor of the Hygroxeric Method ofDressing Wool. No wonder posterity was to be interested in Cholderton!Yet at times--and especially during his visits to the Continent--thediarist indulged himself in digressions about people he encountered; andthese assumed now and then a character so personal, or divulged episodesso private, that the editor had recourse to his blue pencil and drew itwith a sigh through pages which he had himself found no small relieffrom the severer record of Cholderton's services to the commerce of hiscountry. Mr Neeld sat now with blue pencil judicially poised, considering the following passage in his friend's recollections. Theentry bore date Heidelberg, 1875. 

 "At the widow's" (Mr Cholderton is speaking of a certain Madame de Kries) "pleasant villa I became acquainted with a lady who made something of a sensation in her day, and whom I remember both for her own sake and because of a curious occurrence connected with her. A year and a half before (or thereabouts) society had been startled by the elopement of Miss T. With Sir R. E. They were married, went to France, and lived together a month or two. Suddenly Sir R. Went off alone; whose the fault was nobody knew, or at least it never came to my ears. The lady was not long left in solitude, and, when I met her, she passed as Mrs F. , wife of Captain F. The Captain seemed to me an ordinary good-looking reckless young fellow; but Mrs F. Was a more striking person. She was tall, graceful, and very fair, a beautiful woman (I might rather say girl) beyond question. Talk revealed her as an absolute child in a moral sense, with a child's infinite candor, a child's infinite deceit, a child's love of praise, a child's defiance of censure where approval would be too dearly earned. She was hardly a reasonable being, as we men of the world understand the term; she was however an exceedingly attractive creature. The natural feelings of a woman, at least, were strong in her, and she was fretting over the prospects of the baby who was soon to be born to her. Captain F. Shared her anxiety. I understood their feelings even more fully (in any case the situation was distressing) when I learnt from Madame de Kries that in certain events (which happened later) the lady and her child after her would become persons of rank and importance. 

 Now comes the scene which has stamped itself on my memory. I was sitting in Madame de Kries' parlor with her and her daughter--an odd dark little thing, five or six years old. Suddenly Mrs F. Came in. She was in a state of agitation and excitement by no means healthy (I should suppose) for one in her condition. She held a letter in her hand and waved it in the air, crying, 'Sir R. 's dead, Sir R. 's dead! We can be married! Oh, we're in time, in time, in time!' Extraordinary as such exclamations may appear when the circumstances and my own presence are considered, I have repeated them _verbatim_. Then she sank down on the sofa, Madame de Kries kneeling by her, while the Imp (as I called the child, whom I disliked) stared at her open-eyed, wondering no doubt what the fuss was about. Directly after F. Came in, almost as upset as Mrs F. , and the pair between them managed to explain to us that she had received a letter from Sir R. 's servant (with whom she had apparently maintained some communication), announcing that his master had, after two days' illness, died of heart complaint on the 6th June. 'Think of the difference it makes, the enormous difference!' she gasped, jumping up again and standing in the middle of the room. She was so full of this idea that she did not spare a thought to the dead man or to anything which might strike us as peculiar or distasteful in her own attitude and the way in which she received the news. 'We shall be married directly, ' she continued with that strange absence of shame or pretence which always marked her, 'and then it'll be all right, and nobody'll be able to say a word in the future. ' She went on in this strain for a long while, until Madame de Kries at last insisted on her calming herself, and proposed to accompany her to her own house. At this point I made my excuses and retired, the Imp following me to the door and asking me, as I went out, why people had to be married again when other people died; she was a child who needed wiser and firmer bringing-up than her mother gave her. 

 I did not myself see Captain and Mrs F. Again, as I left Heidelberg the next day, 22nd June. I learnt however from Madame de Kries that the wedding was hurried on and took place on the day following my departure; after this the pair went to Baden, and there, a fortnight later, the child--a boy--was born. I must confess that I was glad the young couple had avoided the calamity they were in dread of, although I am not sure that I had a right to wish that they should escape the full consequences of their fault. 

 My feelings were abruptly changed when, on paying a flying visit to Madame de Kries a few months later, I heard the sequel of the story, told to me in the strictest confidence, and in violation, I fear, of the old lady's pledge of secrecy. (She was a sad gossip, a failing with which I have no sympathy. ) Sir R. E. Did not, in fact, die on the date reported. He fell into a collapse, mistaken for death by those about him, and even by his medical attendant; after lying in this state for twenty-four hours he revived and lived nearly a week longer. A second letter, apprising Mrs F. Of this fact, and announcing the correct date of his death as June 12th, reached her at Baden on the 28th. By this time she was married, but the validity of her new union (solemnized on the 23rd) did not appear to be affected. Nothing more was done, and the boy was born, as I have stated, early in July. Only after this event, which naturally engrossed the parents' attention, did the mistake into which they had fallen come to be discovered. As a matter of form, and to avoid doubts in the future, Captain F. Wrote for the official certificate of Sir R. 's death. When it came, it came as a thunderbolt. Sir R. Had been residing in a small Russian town near the frontier; he was interested, I understood, in some business there. The servant to whom I have referred was an uneducated man and could not write; he had picked up a little French but spoke no Russian. Wishing to inform Mrs F. Of what had occurred, he had recourse to a professional letter-writer, who perhaps knew as little French, or almost as little, as himself, and was entirely ignorant of English. The servant gave the dates I have set down--June 6th in the first letter, the 12th in the second. The letter-writer put them down; and Mrs F. Read and immediately accepted them. It did not cross her mind or Captain F. 's that the dates used were the ordinary Russian dates--were in fact 'Old Style, ' and consequently twelve days behind the reckoning of Germany or of England. They might have been put on inquiry by the long interval between the date of the death as it was given and the receipt of the news; in their excitement they paid no heed to it, and it did not occur either to Madame de Kries or to myself to raise the question. Indeed who thinks of the 'Old Style' at this period of the world's history? Besides, I did not know at that time, and I do not think that Madame de Kries did, where the first letter came from; Mrs F. Said nothing about it. But when the certificate arrived--about the middle of July, as I understood--the mistake was clear; for a note in the official's hand translated the dates into New Style for the benefit of the foreigners to whom he was supplying the document. Sir R. E. , first reported dead on June 6th Old Style, otherwise June 18th New Style, had actually died on the 12th Old Style, or 24th New Style. 

 I have always thought this one of the most perverse little incidents which I have met with in the course of my life, and I think it such still, when I consider how easily it might have done no harm, and how serious, and indeed irreparable, its actual consequences were. The mistake as to the date of death was the first source of confusion, since it caused Mrs F. 's wedding to take place while her husband, Sir R. , had still a day to live. But this error would not in itself have proved fatal, since there would still have been time to repeat the ceremony and make a valid marriage of it before the birth of the child. Here the misapprehension about the Old Style came in. Led to believe that, although Sir R. Lived six days longer than was originally reported, yet none the less he died on June 12th, the F. 's did not have the ceremony repeated. But he died, in fact, on the 24th as his wife reckoned time, and her wedding to Captain F. On the 23rd was an idle and useless form. When the discovery was made, the boy was born--and born out of lawful wedlock. 

 What did they do then? I was pardonably interested in the matter, and inquired of Madame de Kries. She was reticent, but I extracted from her the information that they were hurriedly married again. One could laugh if the matter had not been so terribly serious to them and to their boy. For by now those events had actually happened, and Mrs F. Was not indeed in possession of but next in succession to a considerable estate and an ancient title. Marrying again could not mend the matter. What else they did to mend or try to mend it, Madame de Kries professed not to know. I myself do not know either. There is only one thing to say. They could not alter the date of the death; they could not alter the date of the wedding; perhaps it would seem rather more possible to alter the date of the birth. At any rate, that is no business of mine. I have set the story down because it seemed a curious and interesting episode, but it is nothing to me who succeeds or ought to succeed to this or that title or estate. For my own part, I am inclined to hope that the baby's prospects in life will not be wrecked by the absurd Russian habit of using the Old Style. 

 To return to serious questions, the customs-barrier between----"

Mr Jenkinson Neeld laid down his friend's Journal and leant back in hischair. 

"Really!" he murmured to himself. "Really, really!"

Frowning in a perplexed fashion, he pushed the manuscript aside andtwiddled the blue pencil between his fingers. The customs-barrier ofwhich Josiah Cholderton was about to speak had no power to interest him. The story which he had read interested him a good deal; it was an oddlittle bit of human history, a disastrous turn of human fortunes. Besides, Mr Neeld knew his London. He shook his head at the Journalreprovingly, rose from his chair, went to his book-case, and took down aPeerage. A reminiscence was running in his head. He turned to theletter T (Ah, those hollowly discreet, painfully indiscreet initials ofJosiah Cholderton's! Mysteries perhaps in Baxton, Yorks, but none inPall Mall!) and searched the pages. This was the entry at which hisfinger stopped--or rather part of the entry, for the volume had more tosay on the family than it is needful either to believe or to repeat:--

 "Tristram of Blent--Adelaide Louisa Aimée, in her own right Baroness--23rd in descent, the barony descending to heirs general. Born 17th December 1853. Married first Sir Randolph Edge, Bart. --no issue. Secondly, Captain Henry Vincent Fitzhubert (late Scots Guards), died 1877. Issue--one son (and heir) Hon. Henry Austen Fitzhubert Tristram, born 20th July 1875. The name of Tristram was assumed in lieu of Fitzhubert by Royal Licence 1884. Seat--Blent Hall, Devon----"

Here Mr Neeld laid down the book. He had seen what he wanted, and had nofurther concern with the ancestry, the ramifications, the abodes orpossessions of the Tristrams of Blent. To him who knew, the entry itselfwas expressive in what it said and in what it omitted; read inconjunction with Josiah Cholderton's Journal it was yet more eloquent. By itself it hinted a scandal--else why no dates for the marriages? Withthe Journal it said something more. For the 20th is not "early in July. "Yet Mr Neeld had never heard--! He shut the book hastily and put it backon the shelf. Returning to his desk, he took up the blue pencil. But onsecond thoughts this instrument did not content him. Scissors were tohis hand; with them he carefully cut out from the manuscript the wholeaccount of Mr Cholderton's visit to Heidelberg (he would run no risks, and there was nothing important in it), dated it, marked it with thepage to which it belonged in the Journal, and locked it away in adrawer. 

He felt resentful toward his dead friend Josiah Cholderton. If there bea safe pastime, one warranted to lead a man into no trouble and toentangle him in no scandals, it would seem to lie in editing the Journalof a Member of Parliament, a Commercial Delegate, an Inventor of theHygroxeric Method of Dressing Wool. Josiah Cholderton had--not quite forthe first time--played him false. But never so badly as this before!

"Good gracious me!" he muttered. "The thing is nothing more nor lessthan an imputation on the legitimacy of the son and heir!"

That same afternoon he went over to the Imperium to vote at the electionof members. It struck him as one of the small coincidences of life thatamong the candidates who faced the ballot was a Colonel Wilmot Edge, R. E. 

"Any relation, I wonder?" mused Mr Neeld as he dropped in an affirmativeball. But it may be added, since not even the secrets of club ballotsare to be held sacred, that he bestowed one of a different sort on acertain Mr William Iver, who was described as a "Contractor, " and whosename was familiar and conspicuous on the hoardings that screened newbuildings in London, and was consequently objectionable to Mr Neeld'sfastidious mind. 

"I don't often blackball, " he remarked to Lord Southend as they weresitting down to whist, "but, really, don't you think the Imperium shouldmaintain--er--a certain level?"

"Iver's a devilish rich fellow and not a bad fellow either, " grunted mylord. 

II

MR CHOLDERTON'S IMP

"Yes, madame, an elegant and spacious residence, Filton Park. The photo?Here it is, madame. And Notts is a very eligible county--sociallyspeaking, remarkably eligible; I've sent several families to Notts. Thatphoto, madame? Hatchley Manor, in Sussex. Yes, good position--a triflelow perhaps--I have heard complaints of--er--effluvium from theriver--I'm anxious to give you perfect satisfaction, madame. It wouldn'tpay me not to. I want you to come back, madame, another summer. I playfor the break, if I may so put it--I beg your pardon! Yes, Birdcup isreally a palatial residence--Hants, yes--a beautiful county. But betweenourselves, madame, his lordship is a little hard to deal with. Dilapidations I refer to, yes--his lordship is exacting as todilapidations. On the whole, I should prefer to recommendWinterhurst--near Maidstone--a pleasant town, Maidstone, and the clergy, I'm informed, extremely active and sympathetic. "

"It's a very ugly house, " remarked Madame Zabriska, throwing away thephotograph of Winterhurst with a gesture of decided refusal. 

Mr Sloyd stroked his sleek hair and smiled deprecatingly. 

"With residences as with--er--ladies, beauty is only skin deep, " saidhe. "A thoroughly modern residence, madame--hot and cold--south aspect. "He stopped suddenly, perceiving that the queer dark little woman in thebig chair was laughing at him. "I don't intend to convey, " he resumedwith dignity, "that the mansion is hot and cold, but the bath-rooms----"

"Oh, I know, " she interrupted, her great black eyes still deriding him, while her thin face was screwed up into seriousness, as she regarded MrSloyd's blameless garments of springtime gray, his black-and-white tie, his hair so very sleek, his drooping mustache, and his pink cheeks. Shehad taken his measure as perfectly as the tailor himself, and wasenjoying the counterfeit presentment of a real London dandy who came toher in the shape of a house-agent. "I don't want a big place, " sheexplained in English, with a foreign touch about it. "There's onlymyself and my uncle, Major Duplay--he'll be in directly, I expect--andwe've no more money than we want, Mr Sloyd. "

Sloyd's eyes wandered round the large and handsome sitting-room inBerridge's Hotel, where he found his client established. 

"Oh, it doesn't matter for a few days, " she added, detecting his ideaand smiling again. 

This explanation of her position had the effect of making Sloyd's mannerrather less florid and his language less flowery. 

"Among second-class but eminently genteel residences, " he began, "Icould confidently recommend----"

"Where's this?" she interrupted, picking up another photograph, andregarding it with apparent liking. Looking at the foot, she read aloud, "Merrion Lodge, property of the Right Honorable Baroness Tristram ofBlent. " She looked up sharply at Sloyd. 

"Ye-es, ye-es, " said Sloyd, without much enthusiasm. "A very prettyneighborhood--a few miles from Blentmouth--rising place, Blentmouth. Andit's a cheap house--small, you see, and old-fashioned. "

"Not hot and cold?" she asked with apparent innocence. 

Sloyd smiled uncomfortably. "I could ascertain all that for you, madame. "

He waited for her to speak again, but she had turned thoughtful as shesat fingering the photograph. Presently she smiled again and said, "Yes, find out about Merrion Lodge for me, Mr Sloyd. "

He began to gather up his pictures and papers. 

"Is Baron Tristram alive?" she asked suddenly. 

Sloyd recovered his air of superiority. 

"Her ladyship is a peeress in her own right, " he explained. 

"She's not married then?"

"A widow, madame. "

"And wasn't her husband Baron Tristram?"

"Her husband would not have been Lord--excuse me, madame, we sayLord--Tristram of Blent. Her son will succeed to the title, of course. The family reside at Blent Hall, only a few hundred yards from MerrionLodge, a picturesque mansion in the valley. The Lodge, you perceive, stands high. "

"I don't understand the family arrangements, " remarked Madame Zabriska, "but I daresay I shall learn it all if I go. "

"If you had a 'Peerage, ' madame----" he suggested, being himself rathervague about the mysteries of a barony by writ. 

"I'll get one from the waiter presently. Good-morning, Mr Sloyd. "

Sloyd was making his bow when the door opened and a man came in. He wastall, erect, and good-looking. Both air and manner were youthful, although perhaps with a trace of artifice; he would pass for thirty-fiveon a casual glance, but not after a longer one. 

"My uncle, Major Duplay, " said the little woman. "This is Mr Sloyd, who's come about the house, uncle. "

Duplay greeted the house-agent with grave courtesy, and entered intoconversation with him, while Madame Zabriska, relapsed again into analert silence, watched the pair. 

The last thing that Madame Zabriska--the style sat oddly on herchild-like face and figure, but Mina Zabriska at the age of twenty-eighthad been a widow three years--desired to do was harm; the thing she bestloved to make was mischief. The essence of mischief lay for her--perhapsfor everybody--in curiosity; it was to put people in the situations inwhich they least expected to find themselves, and to observe how theycomported themselves therein. As for hurting their interests or eventheir feelings--no; she was certain that she did not want that; was shenot always terribly sorry when that happened, as it sometimes, and quiteunaccountably, did? She would weep then--but for their misfortune, be itunderstood, not for any fault of hers. People did not always understandher; her mother had understood her perfectly, and consequently had neverinterfered with her ways. Mina loved a mystification too, and especiallyto mystify uncle Duplay, who thought himself so clever--was cleverindeed as men went, she acknowledged generously; but men did not go far. It would be fun to choose Merrion Lodge for her summer home, firstbecause her uncle would wonder why in the world she took it, andsecondly because she had guessed that somebody might be surprised to seeher there. So she laid her plan, even as she had played her tricks inthe days when she was an odd little girl, and Mr Cholderton, not likingher, had with some justice christened her the Imp. 

Major Duplay bowed Mr Sloyd to the door with the understanding that fulldetails of Merrion Lodge were to be furnished in a day or two. Comingback to the hearth-rug he spoke to his niece in French, as was thecustom with the pair when they were alone. 

"And now, dear Mina, " said he, "what has made you set your mind on whatseems distinctly the least desirable of these houses?"

"It's the cheapest, I expect, and I want to economize. "

"People always do as soon as they've got any money, " reflected Duplay ina puzzled tone. "If you were on half-pay as I am, you'd never want to doit. "

"Well, I've another reason. " This was already saying more than she hadmeant to say. 

"Which you don't mean to tell me?"

"Certainly not. "

With a shrug he took out his cigarette-case and handed it to her. 

"You and your secrets!" he exclaimed good-humoredly. "Really, Mina, Imore than earn my keep by the pleasure I give you in not telling methings. And then you go and do it!"

"Shan't this time, " said Mr Cholderton's Imp, seeming not a day morethan ten, in spite of her smoking cigarette and her smart costume. 

"Luckily I'm not curious--and I can trust you to do nothing wrong. "

"Well, I suppose so, " she agreed with scornful composure. "Did you everhear mother speak of a Mrs Fitzhubert?"

The major smiled under his heavy mustache as he answered, "Never. "

"Well, I have, " said Mina with a world of significance. "I heard herfirst through the door, " she added with a candid smile. "I waslistening. "

"You often were in those days. "

"Oh, I am still--but on the inside of the door now. And she told meabout it afterward of her own accord. But it wouldn't interest you, uncle. "

"Not in its present stage of revelation, " he agreed, with a little yawn. 

"The funny old Englishman--you never saw him, did you?--MrCholderton--he knew her. He rather admired her too. He was there whenshe rushed in and---- Never mind! I was there too--such a guy! I hadcorkscrew curls, you know, and a very short frock, and very long--otherthings. Oh, those frills!--And I suppose I really was the ugliest childever born. Old Cholderton hated me--he'd have liked to box my ears, Iknow. But I think he was a little in love with Mrs Fitzhubert. Oh, I'venever asked for that 'Peerage!'"

Major Duplay had resigned himself to a patient endurance of inadequatehints. His wits were not equal to putting together the pieces orconducting a sort of "missing word, " or missing link, exercise to atriumphant issue. In time he would know all--supposing, that is, thatthere were really anything to know. Meanwhile he was not curious aboutother people's affairs; he minded his own business. Keeping youngoccupied much of his time; and then there was always the question of howit might prove possible to supplement the half-pay to which his years ofservice in the Swiss Army entitled him; it was scanty, and but for hisniece's hospitality really insufficient. He thought that he was a cleverman, he had remained an honest man, and he saw no reason why Fortuneshould not some day make him a comfortable man; she had never done soyet, having sent him into the world as the fifth child of a Protestantpastor in a French-speaking canton, and never having given him so muchas a well-to-do relative (even Madame de Kries' villa was on a modestscale) until Mina married Adolf Zabriska and kept that gentleman's moneyalthough she had the misfortune to lose his company. His death seemed toDuplay at least no great calamity; that he had died childless did notappear to have disappointed Mina and was certainly no ground ofcomplaint on her uncle's part. 

Presumably Mr Sloyd's inquiries elicited satisfactory information;perhaps Mina was not hard to please. At all events, a week later she andthe Major got out at Blentmouth station and found Sloyd himself waitingto drive with them to Merrion Lodge; he had insisted on seeing theminstalled; doubtless he was, as he put it, playing for the break again. He sat in the landau with his back to the horses and pointed out thefeatures of interest on the road; his couple of days' stay in theneighborhood seemed to have made him an old inhabitant. 

"Five hundred population five years ago, " he observed, waving his handover Blentmouth in patronizing encouragement. "Two thousand winter, three five summer months now--largely due to William Iver, Esquire, ofFairholme--we shall pass Fairholme directly--a wealthy gentleman whotakes great interest in the development of the town. "

It was all Greek to the Major, but he nodded politely. Mina was lookingabout her with keen eyes. 

"That's Fairholme, " Sloyd went on, as they came to a large and rathernew house situated on the skirts of Blentmouth. "Observe theglass--those houses cost thousands of pounds--grows peaches all theyear, they tell me. At this point, Madame Zabriska, we turn and pursuethe road by the river. " And so he ceased not to play guide-book till helanded them at the door of Merrion Lodge itself, after a slow crawl ofa quarter of a mile uphill. Below them in the valley lay the littleBlent, sparkling in the sunshine of a summer afternoon, and beyond theriver, facing them on the opposite bank, no more perhaps than fivehundred yards away, was Blent Hall. Mina ran to the parapet of thelevelled terrace on which the Lodge stood, and looked down. Blent Hallmade three sides of a square of old red-brick masonry, with a tower inthe centre; it faced the river, and broad gravel-walks and broader lawnsof level close-shaven turf ran down to the water's edge. 

"Among the minor seats of the nobility Blent is considered a veryperfect example, " she heard Sloyd say to the Major, who wasunobtrusively but steadily urging him in the direction of the landau. She turned to bid him good-by, and he came up to her, hat in hand. 

"Thank you. I like the place, " she said. "Do you--do you think we shallmake acquaintance with the people at Blent Hall?"

"Her ladyship's in poor health, I hear, but I should imagine she wouldmake an effort to call or at least send cards. Good-by, madame. "

Duplay succeeded in starting the zealous man on his homeward journey andthen went into the house, Mina remaining still outside, engaged in thecontemplation of her new surroundings, above all of Blent Hall, whichwas invested with a special interest for her eyes. It was the abode ofMrs Fitzhubert. 

With a little start she turned to find a young man standing just on theother side of the parapet; she had not noticed his approach till he hadgiven a low cough to attract her attention. As he raised his hat herquick vision took him in as it were in a complete picture--the thin yetwell-made body, the slight stoop in the shoulders, the high foreheadbordered with thick dark hair growing in such a shape that the browseemed to rise almost to a peak, a long nose, a sensitive mouth, apointed chin, dark eyes with downward lids. The young man--she wouldhave guessed him at twenty-two or three--had a complete composure ofmanner; somehow she felt herself in the presence of the lord of thesoil--an absurd thing to feel, she told herself. 

"Madame Zabriska? My mother, Lady Tristram, has sent me to bid youwelcome in her name, but not to disturb you by coming in so soon afteryour journey. It is our tradition to welcome guests at the moment oftheir arrival. "

He spoke rather slowly, in a pleasant voice, but with something in hisair that puzzled Mina. It seemed like a sort of watchfulness--not aslyness (that would have fitted so badly with the rest of him), butperhaps one might say a wariness--whether directed against her orhimself it was too soon for her even to conjecture. 

Still rather startled, she forgot to express her thanks, and saidsimply:

"You're Mr Fitzhubert Tristram?"

"Mr Tristram, " he corrected her; and she noticed now for the first timethe slow-moving smile which soon became his leading characteristic inher thoughts. It took such a time to spread, it seemed to feel its way;but it was a success when it came. "I use my father's name only as aChristian name now. Tristram is my surname; that also, if I may repeatmyself, is one of our traditions. "

"What, to change your names? The men, I mean?" she asked, laughing alittle. 

"For anybody in the direct line to take the name of Tristram--so that, in spite of the failure of male heirs from time to time, the Tristramsof Blent should always be Tristrams, you know, and not Fitzhuberts, orLeighs, or Merrions----"

"Merrion?"

"My great-great--I forget how many greats--grandfather was a Merrionand----"

"Built this house?"

"Oh, no--a house where this stands. The old house was burnt down in'95. "

"As recently as that?" she exclaimed in surprise. 

"1795, " he explained, "and this house was run up then. "

Mina felt that there was here a touch of pride; with a more completemastery of idiomatic English she might have called it "swagger. " Nothingcounted that was less than a century old, it seemed, and he spoke of ahouse of a hundred years' standing as she might of a wooden shanty. Decidedly he was conscious of his position--over-conscious. 

"I'm glad it was run up in time for us to take it, " she said, thinkingshe would try the effect of a little chaff. 

The effect was nothing; Harry Tristram took no notice of the remark. 

"I see, " he observed, "from your calling me Fitzhubert that you've beenlooking up our recent history. "

"Oh, just what there is in the 'Peerage. '" Her look was mischievous now, but she restrained herself from any hint of special knowledge. "I'lltell you as much of ours some day. "

She broke into a laugh, and then, carried away by the beauty of thescene, the river and the stately peaceful old house by it, she stretchedout her hands toward Blent Hall, exclaiming:

"But we haven't anything like that in our history!"

He turned to look with her, and stood in silence for a minute or two. Then he spoke softly. 

"Yes, I love it, " he said. 

She glanced at him; his eyes were tender. Turning, he saw her glance. Ina moment he seemed to veil his eyes and to try to excuse the sentimentaltone of his remark by a matter-of-fact comment:

"But of course a man comes to like a place when he's been accustomed tothink of it as his home for all his life past and to come. "

"What would you do if you lost it?" she asked. 

"I've no intention of losing it, " he answered, laughing, but lookingagain from her and toward his home. "We've had it six hundred years; weshan't lose it now, I think. "

"No, I suppose not. " He was holding out his hand. "Good-by, Mr Tristram. May I come and thank your mother?"

"Oh, but she'll come here, if she's well enough. "

"I'll save her the journey up the hill. "

He bowed in courteous acceptance of her offer as he shook hands. 

"You see the foot-bridge over the river there? There's a gate at eachend, but the gates are never locked, so you can reach us from the roadthat way if you're walking. If you want to drive, you must go a quarterof a mile higher up, just below the Pool. Good-by, Madame Zabriska. "

Mina watched him all the way down the hill. He had made an impression onher--an intellectual impression, not a sentimental one. There wasnothing of the boy about him, unless it were in that little flourishover the antiquity of his house and its surroundings; even that might bethe usual thing--she had not seen enough of his class to judge. Therewas too that love of the place which he had shown. Lastly, there wasthe odd air of wariness and watching; such it seemed to her, and itconsented to seem nothing else. 

"I wonder, " she thought, "if he knows anything about Mrs Fitzhubert--andI wonder if it would make any difference to him!" Memory carried herback in an instant to the moment when she, Mr Cholderton's Imp, heardthat beautiful woman cry, "Think of the difference it makes, theenormous difference!" She drew in her breath in a sudden gasp. An ideahad flashed into her mind, showing her for the first time the chance ofa situation which had never yet crossed her thoughts. 

"Good gracious, is it possible that he couldn't keep it, or that hismother couldn't give it to him, all the same?"

III

ON GUARD

Harry Tristram was just on twenty-three; to others, and to himself tooperhaps (if a man himself can attain any clear view), he seemed older. Even the externals of his youth had differed from the common run. Sentto school like other boys, he had come home from Harrow one Easter forthe usual short holiday. He had never returned; he had not gone to theUniversity; he had been abroad a good deal, travelling and studying, butalways in his mother's company. It was known that she was in bad health;it was assumed that either she was very exacting or he very devoted, since to separate him from her appeared impossible. Yet those whoobserved them together saw no imperiousness on her part and no excess ofsentiment on his. Friendliness based on a thorough sympathy of mind washis attitude if his demeanor revealed it truly; while Lady Tristram wasto her son as she was to all the world at this time, a creature offeelings now half cold and of moods that reflected palely the intenseimpulses of her youth. But a few years over forty, she grew faded andfaint in mind, it seemed, as well as in body, and was no longer a merrycomrade to the boy who never left her. Yet he did not wish to leave her. To her, indeed, he was not a boy, and nobody about the place regardedhim as other than a man. He had been actually and effectively master ofthe house for years, just as he was master of his own doings, of hisfriendships, recreations, and pursuits. And he had managed all well, except that he was not thought to be very happy or to get much enjoymentfrom his life. That was just an idea he gave of himself, and gaveinvoluntarily--in spite of taking his fair share in the amusements ofthe neighborhood, and holding his own well in its sports and athletics. But he was considered cold and very reserved. Had Mina Zabriskaremembered this use of "reserve, " perhaps she would have employed theword instead of "wariness. " Or perhaps, if his acquaintances had lookedmore keenly, they would have come over to Mina's side and found her termthe more accurate. She spoke from a fresher and sharper impression ofhim. 

His childhood at least had been happy, while Lady Tristram was still thebewilderingly delightful companion who had got into so much hot waterand made so many people eager to get in after her. Joy lasted with heras long as health did, and her health began to fail only when her sonapproached fifteen. Another thing happened about then, which formed theprelude to the most vivid scene in the boy's life. Lady Tristram was nothabitually a religious woman; that temper of mind was too abstract forher; she moved among emotions and images, and had small dealings withmeditation or spiritual conceptions. But happening to be in a mood thatlaid her open to the influence, she heard in London one day a sermonpreached by a young man famous at the time, a great searcher offashionable hearts. She drove straight from the church (it was a Fridaymorning) to Paddington and took the first train home. Harry wasthere--back from school for his holiday--and she found him in thesmoking-room, weighing a fish which he had caught in the pool that theBlent forms above the weir. There and then she fell on her knees on thefloor and poured forth to him the story of that Odyssey of hers whichhad shocked London society and is touched upon in Mr Cholderton'sJournal. He listened amazed, embarrassed, puzzled up to a point; a boy'snormal awkwardness was raised to its highest pitch; he did not want tohear his mother call herself a wicked woman; and anyhow it was a longwhile ago, and he did not understand it all very well. The woman liftedher eyes and looked at him; she was caught by the luxury of confession, of humiliation, of offering her back to the whip. She told him he wasnot her heir--that he would not be Tristram of Blent. For a moment shelaid her head on the floor at his feet. She heard no sound from him, andpresently looked up at him again. His embarrassment had gone; he wasstanding rigidly still, his eyes gazing out toward the river, hisforehead wrinkled in a frown. He was thinking. She went on kneelingthere, saying no more, staring at her son. It was characteristic of herthat she did not risk diminishing the effectiveness of the scene, or thetragedy of her avowal, by explaining the perverse accident owing towhich her fault had entailed such an aggravation of evil. Harry learntthat later. 

Later--and in a most different sort of interview. From the first Harryhad no thought of surrender; his mother had none either as soon as shehad forgotten her preacher. The discussion was resumed after a week(Lady Tristram had spent the interval in bed) on a business footing. Shefound in him the same carelessness of the world and its obligations thatthere was in herself, but found it carried to the point of scorn andallied to a tenacity of purpose and a keenness of vision which she hadnever owned. Not a reproach escaped him--less, she thought, fromgenerosity than because he chose to concentrate his mind on somethinguseful. It was no use lamenting the past; it might be possible to undoit for all practical purposes. The affair was never again referred tobetween them except as a factor recommending or dictating some course ofaction; its private side--its revelation of her and its effect (or whatmight have been its effect) on his feelings toward her--was never spokenof. Lady Tristram thought that the effect was nothing, and therevelation not very surprising to her son. He accepted without argumenther own view--that she had done nothing very strange but had fallen onvery bad luck. But he told her at once that he was not going back toHarrow. She understood; she agreed to be watched, she abdicated herrule, she put everything in his hands and obeyed him. 

Thus, at fifteen, Harry Tristram took up his burden and seemed to takeup his manhood too. He never wavered; he always assumed that right andjustice were on his side, that he was not merely justified in holdinghis place but bound in duty to keep it. Such practical steps as could betaken were taken. The confederates set no limit to their preparationsagainst danger and their devices to avoid detection. If lies werenecessary, they would lie; where falsification was wanted, theyfalsified. There was no suspicion; not a hint of it had reached theirears. Things were so quiet that Lady Tristram often forgot the wholeaffair; her son watched always, his eyes keen for a sight, his ear downto the earth for a sound, of danger. No security relaxed his vigilance, but his vigilance became so habitual, so entered into him, that hismother ceased to notice it and it became a second nature to himself. That it might miss nothing, it was universal; the merest stranger camewithin its ken. He watched all mankind lest some one among men should beseeking to take his treasure from him. Mr Cholderton's Imp had not usedher eyes in vain; but Harry's neighbors, content to call him reserved, had no idea that there was anything in particular that he had to hide. 

There was one little point which, except for his persuasion of his ownrectitude, might have seemed to indicate an uneasy conscience, but wasin fact only evidence of a natural dislike to having an unwelcomesubject thrust under his notice. About a year after the disclosure LadyTristram had a letter from Mr Gainsborough. This gentleman had marriedher cousin, and the cousin, a woman of severe principles, had put an endto all acquaintance in consequence of the "Odyssey. " She was dead, andher husband proposed to renew friendly relations, saying that hisdaughter knew nothing of past differences and was anxious to see herkinsfolk. The letter was almost gushing, and Lady Tristram, left toherself, would have answered it in the same kind; for while she hadpleased herself she bore no resentment against folk who had blamed her. Moreover Gainsborough was poor, and somebody had told her that the girlwas pleasant; she pitied poverty and liked being kind to pleasantpeople. 

"Shall we invite them to stay for a week or two?" she had asked. 

"Never, " he said. "They shall never come here. I don't want to knowthem, I won't see them. " His face was hard, angry, and even outraged atthe notion. 

His mother said no more. If the barony and Blent departed from Harry, onLady Tristram's death they would go to Cecily Gainsborough. If Harry hadhis way, that girl should not even see his darling Blent. If distrust ofhis mother entered at all into his decision, if he feared any indiscreettalk from her, he gave no hint of it. It was enough that the girl hadsome odious pretensions which he could and would defeat but could notignore--pretensions for his mind, in her own she had none. 

The sun had sunk behind the tower, and Lady Tristram sat in a low chairby the river, enjoying the cool of the evening. The Blent murmured as itran; the fishes were feeding; the midges were out to feed, but they didnot bite Lady Tristram; they never did; the fact had always been acomfort to her, and may perhaps be allowed here to assume a mildlyallegorical meaning. If the cool of the evening may do the same, it willserve very well to express the stage of life and of feeling to which nomore than the beginning of middle age had brought her. It was ratherabsurd, but she did not want to do or feel very much more; and it seemedas though her wishes were to be respected. A certain distance fromthings marked her now; only Harry was near to her, only Harry's triumphwas very important. She had outrun her vital income and mortgaged futureyears; if foreclosure threatened, she maintained her old power of takingno heed of disagreeable things, however imminent. She was still veryhandsome and wished to go on being that to the end; fortunatelyfragility had always been her style and always suited her. 

Harry leant his elbow on a great stone vase which stood on a pedestaland held a miniature wilderness of flowers. 

"I lunched at Fairholme, " he was saying. "The paint's all wet still, ofcourse, and the doors stick a bit, but I liked the family. He's genuine, she's homely, and Janie's a good girl. They were very civil. "

"I suppose so. "

"Not overwhelmed, " he added, as though wishing to correct a wrongimpression which yet might reasonably have arisen. 

"I didn't mean that. I've met Mr Iver, and he wasn't at alloverwhelmed. Mrs Iver was--out--when I called, and I was--out--when shecalled. " Lady Tristram was visibly, although not ostentatiously, allowing for the prejudices of a moral middle-class. 

"Young Bob Broadley was there--you know who I mean? At Mingham Farm, upabove the Pool. "

"I know--a handsome young man. "

"I forgot he was handsome. Of course you know him then! What a pity I'mnot handsome, mother!"

"Oh, you've the air, though, " she observed contentedly. "Is he afterJanie Iver?"

"So I imagine. I'm not sure that I'm not too. Have I any chance againstBob Broadley?"

She did not seem to take him seriously. 

"They wouldn't look at Mr Broadley. " (She was pleasantly punctiliousabout all titles and courteous methods of reference or address. ) "JanieIver's a great heiress. "

"And what about me?" he insisted, as he lit his pipe and sat downopposite her. 

"You mean it, Harry?"

"There's no reason why I shouldn't marry, is there?"

"Why, you must marry, of course. But----"

"We can do the blue blood business enough for both. "

"Yes, I didn't mean that. "

"You mean--am I at all in love with her?"

"No, not quite. Oh, my dear Harry, I mean wouldn't you like to be inlove a little with somebody? You could do it after you marry, of course, and you certainly will if you marry now, but it's not so--socomfortable. " She looked at him with a sort of pity: her feeling wasthat he gave himself no holidays. 

He sat silent a moment seeming to consider some picture which hersuggestion conjured up. 

"No good waiting for that, " was his conclusion. "Somehow if I marriedand had children, it would seem to make everything more settled. " Hisgreat pre-occupation was on him again. "We could do with some more moneytoo, " he added, "and, as I say, I'm inclined to like the girl. "

"What's she like?"

"What you call a fine girl--tall--well made----"

"She'll be fat some day, I expect. "

"Straight features, broadish face, dark, rather heavy brows--you knowthe sort of thing. "

"Oh, Harry, I hate all that!"

"I don't; I rather like it. " He was smoking meditatively, and jerked outwhat he had to say between the puffs. "I shouldn't like to mortgageBlent, " he went on a moment later. 

"Mortgage Blent? What for?"

He raised a hand to ask to be heard out. "But I should like to feel thatI could at any moment lay my hand on a big lump of ready money--sayfifty, or even a hundred, thousand pounds. I should like to be able topull it out of my breeches' pocket and say, 'Take that and hold yourtongue!'" He looked at her to see if she followed what was in his mind. "I think they'd take it, " he ended. "I mean if things got as far asthat, you know. "

"You mean the Gainsboroughs?"

"Yes. Oh, anybody else would be cheaper than that. Fifty thousand wouldbe better than a very doubtful case. But it would have to be donedirectly--before a word was heard about it. I should like to live withthe check by me. "

He spoke very simply, as another man might speak of being ready to meetan improvement-rate or an application from an impecunious brother. 

"Don't you think it would be a good precaution?" he asked. Whether hemeant the marriage, the check, or the lady, was immaterial; it came tothe same thing. 

"It's all very troublesome, " Lady Tristram complained. "It really halfspoils our lives, doesn't it, Harry? One always has to be worrying. "

The smile whose movements had excited Mina Zabriska's interest made itsappearance on Harry's face. He had never been annoyed by his mother'sexternal attitude toward the result of her own doings, but he was oftenamused at it. 

"Why do you smile?" she asked innocently. 

"Well, worrying's a mild term, " he explained evasively. "It's my work inthe world, you know--or it seems as if it was going to be. "

"You'd better think about it, " Lady Tristram concluded, not wishing tothink about it any more herself. "You wouldn't tell Mr Iver anythingabout the difficulty, would you?" "The difficulty" had become her usualway of referring to their secret. 

"Not a word. I'm not called upon to justify my position to Iver. " Noshadow of doubt softened the clearness of Harry's conviction on thispoint. 

He rose, filled his pipe again, and began to walk up and down. He was athis old game, counting chances, one by one, every chance, trying toeliminate risks, one by one, every risk, so that at last he might takehis ease and say without fear of contradiction, "Here sits Tristram ofBlent. " To be thus was--something; but to be safely thus was so muchmore that it did not seem to him a great thing to carry out the planwhich he had suggested to Lady Tristram. To be sure, he was not in lovewith anybody else, which makes a difference, though it is doubtfulwhether it would have made any to him. Had the question arisen at thatmoment he would have said that nothing could make any difference. 

"Did you go up to the Lodge, Harry?" his mother called to him as one ofhis turns brought him near her. 

"Oh, yes; I forgot to tell you. I did, and I found Madame Zabriskahaving a look at us from the terrace, so I had a little talk with her. Ididn't see the uncle. "

"What's she like?" This was a favorite question of Lady Tristram's. 

Harry paused a moment, looking for a description. 

"Well, if you can imagine one needle with two very large eyes, you'd getsome idea of her. She's sharp, mother--mind and body. Pleasant enoughthough. She's coming to see you, so you needn't bother to go up. " Headded with an air of impatience, "She's been hunting in the Peerage. "

"Of course she would; there's nothing in that. "

"No, I suppose not, " he admitted almost reluctantly. 

"I can't help thinking I've heard the name before--not Zabriska, but theuncle's. "

"Duplay, isn't it? I never heard it. "

"Well, I can't remember anything about it, but it sounds familiar. I'mconfusing it with something else, I suppose. They look like beingendurable, do they?"

"Oh, yes, as people go, " he answered, resuming his walk. 

If a determination to keep for yourself what according to your ownconviction belongs by law to another makes a criminal intent--and thatirrespective of the merits of the law--it would be hard to avoidclassing Lady Tristram and her son as criminals in contemplation, if notyet in action. And so considered they afforded excellent specimens oftwo kinds of criminals which a study of assize courts reveals--thecriminal who drifts and the criminal who plans; the former usuallytermed by counsel and judge "unhappy, " the latter more sternly dubbed"dangerous. " Lady Tristram had always drifted and was drifting still;Harry had begun to plan at fifteen and still was busy planning. Oneresult of this difference was that whereas she was hardly touched oraffected in character he had been immensely influenced. In her and toher the whole thing seemed almost accidental, a worry, as she put it, and not much more; with him it was the governing fact in life, and hadbeen the force most potent in moulding him. The trouble came into herhead when something from outside put it there; it never left his brain. And she had no adequate conception of what it was to him. Even hisscheme of marrying Janie Iver and his vivid little phrase about livingwith the check by him failed to bring it home to her. This very evening, as soon as he was out of sight, both he and his great question were outof the mind of the woman who had brought both him and it into existence. There are people who carry the doctrine of free-will so far in their ownpersons as to take the liberty of declining to allow causes to work onand in them, what are logically, morally, and on every other groundconceivable, their necessary effects; reasoning from what they have doneto what they must be, from what they have been responsible for to whatthey must feel, breaks down; they are arbitrary, unconditioned, themselves as it were accidental. With this comes a sort of innocence, sometimes attractive, sometimes uncommonly exasperating to the normalman. 

So Lady Tristram went back to her novel, and Harry walked by the river, moodily meditating and busily scheming. Meanwhile Mina Zabriska hadflown to the library at Merrion Lodge, and, finding books that hadbelonged to a legal member of the family in days gone by, was engagedin studying the law relating to the succession to lands and titles inEngland. She did not make quick progress. Nevertheless in a day or twoshe had reached a point when she was bubbling over with curiosity andexcitement; she felt that she could not go on sitting opposite MajorDuplay at meals without giving him at least a hint or two of thewonderful state of things on which she had hit, and without asking himto consider the facts and to have a look at the books which were sopuzzling and exercising her brain. Yet Harry Tristram, wary sentinel ashe was, did not dream of any attack or scent any danger from the needlewith two very large eyes, as he had called the lady at Merrion Lodge. 

IV

SHE COULD AN' SHE WOULD

In spite of Mrs Iver's secret opinion that people with strange nameswere likely to be strange themselves, and that, for all she saw, foreigners were--not fools, as Dr Johnson's friend thought--butgenerally knaves, an acquaintance was soon made between Fairholme andMerrion Lodge. Her family was against Mrs Iver; her husband wasboundlessly hospitable, Janie was very sociable. The friendship grew andprospered. Mr Iver began to teach the Major to play golf. Janie tookMina Zabriska out driving in the highest dog-cart on the countryside:they would go along the road by the river, and get out perhaps for awander by the Pool, or even drive higher up the valley and demand teafrom Bob Broadley at his pleasant little place--half farm, halfmanor-house--at Mingham, three miles above the Pool. Matters moved soquick that Mina understood in a week why Janie found it pleasant to havea companion under whose ægis she could drop in at Mingham; in littlemore than a fortnight she began to understand why her youthful uncle(the Major was very young now) grunted unsympathetically when sheobserved that the road to Mingham was the prettiest in the neighborhood. The Imp was accumulating other people's secrets, and was accordingly ina state of high satisfaction. 

The situation developed fast, and for the time at least Janie Iver washeroine and held the centre of the stage. A chance of that state ofcomfort which was his remaining and modest ambition had opened beforethe Major--and the possibility of sharing it with a congenial partner:the Major wasted no time in starting his campaign. Overtures from Blent, more stately but none the less prompt, showed that Harry Tristram hadnot spoken idly to his mother. And what about Bob Broadley? He seemed tobe out of the running, and indeed to have little inclination, or notenough courage, to press forward. Yet the drives to Mingham went on. Mina was puzzled. She began to observe the currents in the Fairholmehousehold. Iver was for Harry, she thought, though he maintained adignified show of indifference; Mrs Iver--the miraculous occurring in afortnight, as it often does--was at least very much taken with theMajor. Bob Broadley had no friend, unless in Janie herself. And Janiewas inscrutable by virtue of an open pleasure in the attention of allthree gentlemen and an obvious disinclination to devote herselfexclusively to any one of them. She could not flirt with Harry Tristram, because he had no knowledge of the art, but she accepted his significantcivilities. She did flirt with the Major, who had many years' experienceof the pastime. And she was kind to Bob Broadley, going to see him, ashas been said, sending him invitations, and seeming in some way to befighting against his own readiness to give up the battle before it waswell begun. But it is hard to help a man who will not help himself; onthe other hand, it is said to be amusing sometimes. 

They all met at Fairholme one afternoon, Harry appearing unexpectedly asthe rest were at tea on the lawn. This was his first meeting with theMajor. As he greeted that gentleman, even more when he shook hands withBob, there was a touch of regality in his manner; the reserve wasprominent, and his prerogative was claimed. Very soon he carried Janieoff for a solitary walk in the shrubberies. Mina enjoyed her uncle'sfrown and chafed at Bob's self-effacement; he had been talking to Janiewhen Harry calmly took her away. The pair were gone half an hour, andconversation flagged. They reappeared, Janie looking rather excited, Harry almost insolently calm, and sat down side by side. The Majorwalked across and took a vacant seat on the other side of Janie. Theslightest look of surprise showed on Harry Tristram's face. A duelbegan. Duplay had readiness, suavity, volubility, a trick of flatteringdeference; on Harry's side were a stronger suggestion of power and anassumption, rather attractive, that he must be listened to. Janie likedthis air of his, even while she resented it; here, in his own county atleast, a Tristram of Blent was somebody. Bob Broadley was listening toIver's views on local affairs; he was not in the fight at all, but hewas covertly watching it. Perhaps Iver watched too, but it was not easyto penetrate the thoughts of that astute man of business. The fortune ofbattle seemed to incline to Harry's side; the Major was left out of thetalk for minutes together. More for fun than from any loyalty to herkinsman, Mina rose and walked over to Harry. 

"Do take me to see the greenhouses, Mr Tristram, " she begged. "You'reall right with uncle, aren't you, Janie?"

Janie nodded rather nervously. After a pause of a full half-minute, Harry Tristram rose without a word and began to walk off; it was leftfor Mina to join him in a hurried little run. 

"Oh, wait for me, anyhow, " she cried, with a laugh. 

They walked on some way in silence. 

"You're not very conversational, Mr Tristram, I suppose you're angrywith me?"

He turned and looked at her. Presently he began to smile, even moreslowly, it seemed, than usual. 

"I must see that my poor uncle has fair play--what do you call it?--afair show--mustn't I?"

"Oh, that's what you meant, Madame Zabriska? It wasn't the pleasure ofmy company?"

"Do you know, I think you rather exaggerate the pleasure--no, not thepleasure, I mean the honor--of your company? You were looking as if youcouldn't understand how anybody could want to talk to uncle when youwere there. But he's better-looking than you are, and much moreamusing. "

"I don't set up for a beauty or a wit either, " Harry observed, not atall put out by the Imp's premeditated candor. 

"No--and still she ought to want to talk to you! Why? Because you're MrTristram, I suppose?" Mina indulged in a very scornful demeanor. 

"It's very friendly of you to resent my behavior on Miss Iver's behalf. "

"There you are again! That means she doesn't resent it! I think you giveyourself airs, Mr Tristram, and I should like----"

"To take me down a peg?" he asked, in a tone of rather contemptuousamusement. 

She paused a minute, and then nodded significantly. 

"Exactly; and to make you feel a little uncomfortable--not quite so sureof yourself and everything about you. " Again she waited a minute, hereyes set on his face and watching it keenly. "I wonder if I could, " sheended slowly. 

"Upon my word, I don't see how it's to be done. " He was openly chaffingher now. 

"Oh, I don't know that you're invulnerable, " she said, with a toss ofher head. "Don't defy me, Mr Tristram. I don't mind telling you that itwould be very good for you if you weren't----"

"Appreciated?" he suggested ironically. 

"No; I was going to say if you weren't Mr Tristram, or the future LordTristram of Blent. "

If she had hoped to catch him off his guard, she was mistaken. Not aquiver passed over his face as he remarked:

"I'm afraid Providence can hardly manage that now, either for my good orfor your amusement, Madame Zabriska, much as it might conduce to both. "

The Imp loved fighting, and her blood was getting up. He was a good foe, but he did not know her power. He must not either--not yet, anyhow. Ifhe patronized her much more, she began to feel that he would have toknow it some day--not to his hurt, of course; merely for the reformationof his manners. 

"Meanwhile, " he continued, as he lit a cigarette, "I'm not seriouslydisappointed that attentions paid to one lady fail to please another. That's not uncommon, you know. By the way, we're not on the path to thegreenhouses; but you don't mind that? They were a pretext, no doubt? Oh, I don't want to hurry back. Your uncle shall have his fair show. Howwell you're mastering English!"

At this moment Mina hated him heartily; she swore to humble him--beforeherself, not before the world, of course; she would give him a frightanyhow--not now, but some day; if her temper could not stand the strainbetter, it would be some day soon, though. 

"You see, " Harry's calm exasperating voice went on, "it's just possiblethat you're better placed at present as an observer of our manners thanas a critic of them. I hope I don't exceed the limits of candor whichyou yourself indicated as allowable in this pleasant conversation ofours?"

"Oh well, we shall see, " she declared, with another nod. The vaguethreat (for it seemed that or nothing) elicited a low laugh from HarryTristram. 

"We shall, " he said. "And in the meantime a little sparring is amusingenough. I don't confess to a hit at present; do you, Madame Zabriska?"

Mina did not confess, but she felt the hit all the same; if she were tofight him, she must bring her reserves into action. 

"By the way, I'm so sorry you couldn't see my mother when you called theother day. She's not at all well, unhappily. She really wants to seeyou. "

"How very kind of Lady Tristram!" There was kept for the mother a littleof the sarcastic humility which was more appropriate when directedagainst the son. Harry smiled still as he turned round and began toescort her back to the lawn. The smile annoyed Mina; it was a smile ofvictory. Well, the victory should not be altogether his. 

"I want to see Lady Tristram very much, " she went on, in innocent tonesand with a face devoid of malice, "because I can't help thinking I musthave seen her before--when I was quite a little girl. "

"You've seen my mother before? When and where?"

"She was Mrs Fitzhubert, wasn't she?"

"Yes, of course she was--before she came into the title. "

"Well, a Mrs Fitzhubert used to come and see my mother long ago atHeidelberg. Do you know if your mother was ever at Heidelberg?"

"I fancy she was--I'm not sure. "

Still the Imp was very innocent, although the form of Harry's replycaused her inward amusement and triumph. 

"My mother was Madame de Kries. Ask Lady Tristram if she remembers thename. "

It was a hit for her at last, though Harry took it well. He turnedquickly toward her, opened his lips to speak, repented, and did no morethan give her a rather long and rather intense look. Then he noddedcarelessly. "All right, I'll ask her, " said he. The next moment he put aquestion. "Did you know about having met her before you came toMerrion?"

"Oh well, I looked in the 'Peerage, ' but it really didn't strike me tilla day or two ago that it might be the same Mrs Fitzhubert. The name'spretty common, isn't it?"

"No, it's very uncommon. "

"Oh, I didn't know, " murmured Mina apologetically; but the glance whichfollowed him as he turned away was not apologetic; it was triumphant. 

She got back in time to witness--to her regret (let it be confessed) shecould not overhear--Janie's farewell to Bob Broadley. They had beenfriends from youth; he was "Bob" to her, she was now to him "MissJanie. "

"You haven't said a word to me, Bob. "

"I haven't had a chance; you're always with the swells now. "

"How can I help it, if--if nobody else comes?"

"I really shouldn't have the cheek. Harry Tristram was savage enoughwith the Major--what would he have been with me?"

"Why should it matter what he was?"

"Do you really think that, Miss Janie?" Bob was almost at the point ofan advance. 

"I mean--why should it matter to you?"

The explanation checked the advance. 

"Oh, I--I see. I don't know, I'm sure. Well then, I don't know how todeal with him. "

"Well, good-by. "

"Good-by, Miss Janie. "

"Are you coming to see us again, ever?"

"If you ask me, I----"

"And am I coming again to Mingham? Although you don't ask me. "

"Will you really?"

"Oh, you do ask me? When I ask you to ask me!"

"Any day you'll----"

"No, I'll surprise you. Good-by. Good-by really. "

The conversation, it must be admitted, sounds commonplace when verballyrecorded. Yet he would be a despondent man who considered it altogetherdiscouraging; Mina did not think Janie's glances discouraging either. But Bob Broadley, a literal man, found no warrant for fresh hope in anyof the not very significant words which he repeated to himself as herode home up the valley of the Blent. He suffered under modesty; itneeded more than coquetry to convince him that he exercised anyattraction over the rich and brilliant (brilliance also is a matter ofcomparison) Miss Iver, on whose favor Mr Tristram waited and at whoseside Major Duplay danced attendance. 

"You're a dreadful flirt, Janie, " said Mina, as she kissed her friend. 

Janie was not a raw girl; she was a capable young woman oftwo-and-twenty. 

"Nonsense, " she said rather crossly. "It's not flirting to take time tomake up your mind. "

"It looks like it, though. "

"And I've no reason to suppose they've any one of them made up theirminds. "

"I should think you could do that for them pretty soon. Besides, unclehas, anyhow. "

"I'm to be your aunt, am I?"

"Oh, he's only an uncle by accident. "

"Yes, I think that's true. Shall we have a drive soon?"

"To Mingham? Or to Blent Hall?"

"Not Blent. I wait my lord's pleasure to see me. "

"Yes, that's just how I feel about him, " cried Mina eagerly. 

"But all the same----"

"No, I won't hear a word of good about him. I hate him!"

Janie smiled in an indulgent but rather troubled way. Her problem wasserious; she could not afford the Imp's pettish treatment of the worldand the people in it. Janie had responsibilities--banks and buildingsfull of them--and a heart to please into the bargain. Singularlycomplicated questions are rather cruelly put before young women, whomust solve them on peril of---- It would sound like exaggeration to saywhat. 

There was Mrs Iver to be said good-by to--plump, peaceful, proper MrsIver, whom nothing had great power to stir save an unkindness and anunconventionality; before either of these she bristled surprisingly. 

"I hope you've all enjoyed this lovely afternoon, " she said to Mina. 

"Oh, yes, we have, Mrs Iver--not quite equally perhaps, but still----"

Mrs Iver sighed and kissed her. 

"Men are always the difficulty, aren't they?" said the Imp. 

"Poor child, and you've lost yours!"

"Yes, poor Adolf!" There was a touch of duty in Mina's sigh. She hadbeen fond of Adolf, but his memory was not a constant presence. Theworld for the living was Madame Zabriska's view. 

"I'm so glad Janie's found a friend in you--and a wise one, I'm sure. "

Mina did her best to look the part thus charitably assigned to her; herglance at Janie was matronly, almost maternal. 

"Not that I know anything about it, " Mrs Iver pursued, following a trainof thought obvious enough. "I hope she'll act for her happiness, that'sall. There's the dear Major looking for you--don't keep him waiting, dear. How lucky he's your uncle--he can always be with you. "

"Until he settles and makes a home for himself, " smiled Minairrepressibly; the rejuvenescence--nay, the unbroken youth--of herrelative appeared to her quaintly humorous, and it was her fancy torefer to him as she might to a younger brother. 

There was Mr Iver to be said good-by to. 

"Come again soon--you're always welcome; you wake us up, MadameZabriska. "

"You promised to say Mina!"

"So I did, but my tongue's out of practice with young ladies' Christiannames. Why, I call my wife 'Mother'--only Janie says I mustn't. Yes, come and cheer us up. I shall make the uncle a crack player before long. Mustn't let him get lazy and spend half the day over five o'clock tea, though. "

This was hardly a hint, but it was an indication of the trend of MrIver's thoughts. So it was a dangerous ball, and that clever littlecricketer, the Imp, kept her bat away from it. She laughed; thatcommitted her to nothing--and left Iver to bowl again. 

"It's quite a change to find Harry Tristram at a tea-party, though!Making himself pleasant too!"

"Not to me, " observed Mina decisively. 

"You chaffed him, I expect. He stands a bit on his dignity. Ah well, he's young, you see. "

"No, he chaffed me. Oh, I think I--I left off even, you know. "

"They get a bit spoilt. " He seemed to be referring to the aristocracy. "But there's plenty of stuff in him, or I'm much mistaken. He's a bornfighter, I think. "

"I wonder!" said Mina, her eyes twinkling again. 

Finally there was the Major to be walked home with--not a youthfultriumphant Major, but a rather careworn, undisguisedly irritated one. IfMina wanted somebody to agree with her present mood about HarryTristram, her longing was abundantly gratified. The Major roundly termedhim an overbearing young cub, and professed a desire--almost anintention--to teach him better manners. This coincidence of views was asore temptation to the Imp; to resist it altogether would seemsuperhuman. 

"I should like to cut his comb for him, " growled Duplay. 

Whatever the metaphor adopted, Mina was in essential agreement. Shelaunched on an account of how Harry had treated her: they fanned oneanother's fires, and the flames burnt merrily. 

Mina's stock of discretion was threatened with complete consumption. From open denunciations she turned to mysterious hintings. 

"I could bring him to reason if I liked, " she said. 

"What, make him fall in love with you?" cried Duplay, with a surprisenot very complimentary. 

"Oh no, " she laughed; "better than that--by a great deal. "

He eyed her closely: probably this was only another of her whimsicaltricks, with which he was very familiar; if he showed too much interestshe would laugh at him for being taken in. But she had hinted beforeto-day's annoyances; she was hinting again. He had yawned at her hintstill he became Harry Tristram's rival; he was ready to be eager now, ifonly he could be sure that they pointed to anything more than folly ordelusion. 

"Oh, my dear child, " he exclaimed, "you mustn't talk nonsense. We mayn'tlike him, but what in the world could you do to him?"

"I don't want to hurt him, but I should like to make him sing small. "

They had just reached the foot of the hill. Duplay waved his arm acrossthe river toward the hall. Blent looked strong and stately. 

"That's a big task, my dear, " he said, recovering some of his good-humorat the sight of Mina's waspish little face. "I fancy it'll need a biggerman than you to make Tristram of Blent sing small. " He laughed at herindulgently. "Or than me either, I'm afraid, " he added, with aruefulness that was not ill-tempered. "We must fight him in fair fight, that's all. "

"He doesn't fight fair, " she cried angrily. The next instant she brokeinto her most malicious smile. "Tristram of Blent!" she repeated. "Ohwell----"

"Mina, dear, do you know you rather bore me? If you mean anything atall----"

"I may mean what I like without telling you, I suppose?"

"Certainly--but don't ask me to listen. "

"You think it's all nonsense?"

"I do, my dear, " confessed the Major. 

How far he spoke sincerely he himself could hardly tell. Perhaps he hadan alternative in his mind: if she meant nothing, she would hold herpeace and cease to weary him; if she meant anything real, his challengewould bring it out. But for the moment she had fallen into thought. 

"No, he doesn't fight fair, " she repeated, as though to herself. Sheglanced at her uncle in a hesitating, undecided way. "And he'sabominably rude, " she went on, with a sudden return of pettishness. 

The Major's shrug expressed an utter exhaustion of patience, a scornfulirritation, almost a contempt for her. She could not endure it; she mustjustify herself, revenge herself at a blow on Harry for his rudeness andon her uncle for his scepticism. The triumph would be sweet; she couldnot for the moment think of any seriousness in what she did. She couldnot keep her victory to herself; somebody else now must look on atHarry's humiliation, at least must see that she had power to bring itabout. With the height of malicious exultation she looked up at Duplayand said:

"Suppose he wasn't Tristram of Blent at all?"

Duplay stopped short where he stood--on the slope of the hill aboveBlent itself. 

"What? Is this more nonsense?"

"No, it isn't nonsense. "

He looked at her steadily, almost severely. Under his regard her smiledisappeared; she grew uncomfortable. 

"Then I must know more about it. Come, Mina, this is no trifle, youknow. "

"I shan't tell you any more, " she flashed out, in a last effort ofpetulance. 

"You must, " he said calmly. "All you know, all you think. Come, we'llhave it out now at once. "

She followed like a naughty child. She could have bitten her tongue out, as the old phrase goes. Her feelings went round like a weather-cock; shewas ashamed of herself, sorry for Harry--yes, and afraid of Harry. Andshe was afraid of Duplay too. She had run herself into somethingserious--that she saw; something serious in which two resolute men wereinvolved. She did not know where it would end. But now she could notresist. The youthful uncle seemed youthful no more; he was old, strong, authoritative. He made her follow him, and he bade her speak. 

She followed, like the naughty child she now seemed even to herself; andpresently, in the library, beside those wretched books of hers, her oldlaw-books and her Peerages, reluctantly, stumblingly, sullenly, stilllike the naughty child who would revolt but dare not, she spoke. Andwhen at last he let her go with her secret told, she ran up to her ownroom and threw herself on the bed, sobbing. She had let herself in forsomething dreadful. It was all her own fault--and she was very sorry. 

Those were her two main conclusions. 

Her whole behavior was probably just what the gentleman to whom she owedher nickname would have expected and prophesied. 

V

THE FIRST ROUND

Within the last few days there were ominous rumors afloat as to LadyTristram's health. It was known that she could see nobody and kept herroom; it was reported that the doctors (a specialist had been down fromtown) were looking very grave; it was agreed that her constitution hadnot the strength to support a prolonged strain. There was sympathy--theneighborhood was proud in its way of Lady Tristram--and there was theusual interest to which the prospect of a death and a succession givesrise. They canvassed Harry's probable merits and demerits, asking how hewould fill the vacant throne, and, more particularly, whether he wouldbe likely to entertain freely. Lavish hospitality at Blent would meanmuch to their neighborhood, and if it were indeed the case (as was nowprophesied in whispers) that Miss Iver of Fairholme was to be mistressat the Hall, there would be nothing to prevent the hospitalities frombeing as splendid as the mind of woman could conceive. There werespinster ladies in small villas at Blentmouth who watched the illnessand the courtship as keenly as though they were to succeed the sick LadyTristram and to marry the new Lord. Yet a single garden-party in theyear would represent pretty accurately their personal stake in thematter. If you live on crumbs, a good big crumb is not to be despised. 

Harry Tristram was sorry that his mother must die and that he must loseher; the confederates had become close friends, and nobody who knew herintimately could help feeling that his life and even the world would bepoorer by the loss of a real, if not striking, individuality. Butneither he nor she thought of her death as the main thing; it no morethan ushered in the great event for which they had spent yearspreparing. And he was downright glad that she could see no visitors;that fact saved him added anxieties, and spared her the need of beingtold about Mina Zabriska and warned to bear herself warily toward thedaughter of Madame de Kries. Harry did not ask his mother whether sheremembered the name--the question was unnecessary; nor did he tell hismother that one who had borne the name was at Merrion Lodge. He waited, vaguely expecting that trouble would come from Merrion, but entirelyconfident in his ability to fight, and worst, the tricky little womanwhom he had not feared to snub; and in his heart he thought well of her, and believed she had as little inclination to hurt him as she seemed tohave power. His only active step was to pursue his attentions to JanieIver. 

Yet he was not happy about his attentions. He meant to marry the girl, and thought she would marry him. He did not believe that she wasinclined to fall in love with him. He had no right to expect it, sincehe was not falling in love with her. But it hurt that terrible pride ofhis; he was in a way disgusted with the part he had chosen, andhumiliated to think that he might not be accepted for himself. A refusalwould have hurt him incalculably; such an assent as he counted uponwould wound him somewhat too. He had keen eyes, and he had formed hisown opinion about Bob Broadley. None the less, he held straight on hiscourse; and the spinster ladies were a little shocked to observe thatLady Tristram's illness did not interfere at all with her son'scourtship; people in that position of life were certainly curious. 

A new vexation had come upon him, the work of his pet aversions, theGainsboroughs. He had seen Mr Gainsborough once, and retained a pictureof a small ineffectual man with a ragged tawny-brown beard and a bigsoft felt hat, who had an air of being very timid, rather pressed formoney, and endowed with a kind heart. Now, it seemed, Mr Gainsboroughwas again overflowing with family affection (a disposition not alwayswelcomed by its objects), and wanted to shake poor Lady Tristram's hand, and wanted poor Lady Tristram to kiss his daughter--wanted, in fact, athorough-going burying of hatchets and a touching reconciliation. Withthat justice of judgment of which neither youth nor prejudice quitedeprived him, Harry liked the letter; but he was certain that the writerwould be immensely tiresome. And again--in the end as in thebeginning--he did not want the Gainsboroughs at Blent; above all notjust at the time when Blent was about to pass into his hands. It looked, however, as though it would be extremely difficult to keep them away. MrGainsborough was obviously a man who would not waste his chance of afuneral; he might be fenced with till then, but it would need startlingmeasures to keep him from a funeral. 

"I hate hearsey people, " grumbled Harry, as he threw the letter down. But the Gainsboroughs were soon to be driven out of his head bysomething more immediate and threatening. 

Blent Pool is a round basin, some fifty or sixty feet in diameter; thebanks are steep and the depth great: on the Blent Hall side there is noapproach to it, except through a thick wood overhanging the water; onthe other side the road up the valley runs close by, leaving a few yardsof turf between itself and the brink. The scene is gloomy except insunshine, and the place little frequented. It was a favorite haunt ofHarry Tristram's, and he lay on the grass one evening, smoking andlooking down on the black water; for the clouds were heavy above andrain threatened. His own mood was in harmony, gloomy and dark, inrebellion against the burden he carried, yet with no thought of layingit down. He did not notice a man who came up the road and took his standjust behind him, waiting there for a moment in silence and apparentirresolution. 

"Mr Tristram. "

Harry turned his head and saw Major Duplay; the Major was grave, almostsolemn, as he raised his hat a trifle in formal salute. 

"Do I interrupt you?"

"You couldn't have found a man more at leisure. " Harry did not rise, butgathered his knees up, clasping his hands round them and looking up inDuplay's face. "You want to speak to me?"

"Yes, on a difficult matter. " A visible embarrassment hung about theMajor; he seemed to have little liking for his task. "I'm aware, " hewent on, "that I may lay myself open to some misunderstanding in whatI'm about to say. I shall beg you to remember that I am in a difficultposition, and that I am a gentleman and a soldier. "

Harry said nothing; he waited with unmoved face and no sign ofperturbation. 

"It's best to be plain, " Duplay proceeded. "It's best to be open withyou. I have taken the liberty of following you here for that purpose. "He came a step nearer, and stood over Harry. "Certain facts have come tomy knowledge which concern you very intimately. "

A polite curiosity and a slight scepticism were expressed in Harry's"Indeed!"

"And not only you, or--I need hardly say--I shouldn't feel it necessaryto occupy myself with the matter. A word about my own position you willperhaps forgive. "

Harry frowned a little; certainly Duplay was inclined to prolixity; heseemed to be rolling the situation round his tongue and making the mostof its flavor. 

"Since we came here we have made many acquaintances, your own among thenumber; we are in a sense your guests. "

"Not in a sense that puts you under any obligation, " observed Harry. 

"I'm sincerely glad to hear you say that; it relieves my position tosome extent. But we have made friends too. In one house I myself (I mayleave my niece out of the question) have been received with a hearty, cordial, warm friendship that seems already an old friendship. Now thatdoes put me under an obligation, Mr Tristram. "

"You refer to our friends the Ivers? Yes?"

"In my view, under a heavy obligation. I am, I say, in my judgment boundto serve them in all ways in my power, and to deal with them as I shouldwish and expect them to deal with me in a similar case. "

Harry nodded a careless assent, and turned his eyes away toward thePool; even already he seemed to know what was coming, or something ofit. 

"Facts have come to my knowledge of which it might be--indeed I must sayof which it is--of vital importance that Mr Iver should be informed. "

"I thought the facts concerned me?" asked Harry, with brows a littleraised. 

"Yes, and as matters now stand they concern him too for that veryreason. " Duplay had gathered confidence; his tone was calm and assuredas he came step by step near his mark, as he established position afterposition in his attack. 

"You are paying attentions to Miss Iver--with a view to marriage, Ipresume?"

Harry made no sign. Duplay proceeded, slowly and with carefuldeliberation. 

"Those attentions are offered and received as from Mr Tristram--as fromthe future Lord Tristram of Blent. I can't believe that you're ignorantof what I'm about to say. If you are, I must beg forgiveness for thepain I shall inflict on you. You, sir, are not the future Lord Tristramof Blent. "

A silence followed: a slight drizzle had begun to fall, speckling thewaters of the Pool; neither man heeded it. 

"It would be impertinent in me, " the Major resumed, "to offer you anysympathy on the score of that misfortune; believe me, however, that myknowledge--my full knowledge--of the circumstances can incline me tonothing but a deep regret. But facts are facts, however hardly they maybear on individuals. " He paused. "I have asserted what I know. You areentitled to ask me for proofs, Mr Tristram. "

Harry was silent a moment, thinking very hard. Many modes of defencecame into his busy brain and were rejected. Should he be tempestuous?No. Should he be amazed? Again no. Even on his own theory of the story, Duplay's assertion hardly entitled him to be amazed. 

"As regards my part in this matter, " he said at last, "I have only thisto say. The circumstances of my birth--with which I am, as you rightlysuppose, quite familiar--were such as to render the sort of notion youhave got hold of plausible enough. I don't want what you callproofs--though you'll want them badly if you mean to pursue your presentline. I have my own proofs--perfectly in order, perfectly satisfactory. That's all I have to say about my part of the matter. About your part init I can, I think, be almost equally brief. Are you merely Mr Iver'sfriend, or are you also, as you put it, paying attentions to Miss Iver?"

"That, sir, has nothing to do with it. "

Harry Tristram looked up at him. For the first time he broke into asmile as he studied Duplay's face. "I shouldn't in the least wonder, " hesaid almost chaffingly, "if you believed that to be true. You get holdof a cock-and-bull story about my being illegitimate (Oh, I've noobjection to plainness either in its proper place!), you come to me andtell me almost in so many words that if I don't give up the lady you'llgo to her father and show him your precious proofs. Everybody knows thatyou're after Miss Iver yourself, and yet you say that it has nothing todo with it! That's the sort of thing a man may manage to believe abouthimself; it's not the sort of thing that other people believe about him, Major Duplay. " He rose slowly to his feet and the men stood face to faceon the edge of the Pool. The rain fell more heavily: Duplay turned uphis collar, Harry took no notice of the downpour. 

"I'm perfectly satisfied as to the honesty of my own motives, " saidDuplay. 

"That's not true, and you know it. You may try to shut your eyes, butyou can't succeed. "

Duplay was shaken. His enemy put into words what his own conscience hadsaid to him. His position was hard: he was doing what honestly seemed tohim the right thing to do: he could not seem to do it because it wasright. He would be wronging the Ivers if he did not do it, yet how uglyit could be made to look! He was not above suspicion even to himself, though he clung eagerly to his plea of honesty. 

"You fail to put yourself in my place----" he began. 

"Absolutely, I assure you, " Harry interrupted, with quiet insolence. 

"And I can't put myself in yours, sir. But I can tell you what I mean todo. It is my most earnest wish to take no steps in this matter at all;but that rests with you, not with me. At least I desire to take noneduring Lady Tristram's illness, or during her life should she unhappilynot recover. "

"My mother will not recover, " said Harry. "It's a matter of a few weeksat most. "

Duplay nodded. "At least wait till then, " he urged. "Do nothing more inregard to the matter we have spoken of while your mother lives. " Hespoke with genuine feeling. Harry Tristram marked it and took account ofit. It was a point in the game to him. 

"In turn I'll tell you what I mean to do, " he said. "I mean to proceedexactly as if you had never come to Merrion Lodge, had never got yourproofs from God knows where, and had never given me the pleasure of thisvery peculiar interview. My mother would ask no consideration from you, and I ask none for her any more than for myself. To be plain for thelast time, sir, you're making a fool of yourself at the best, and at theworst a blackguard into the bargain. " He paused and broke into a laugh. "Well, then, where are the proofs? Show them me. Or send them down toBlent. Or I'll come up to Merrion. We'll have a look at them--for yoursake, not for mine. "

"I may have spoken inexactly, Mr Tristram. I know the facts; I couldget, but have not yet got, the proof of them. "

"Then don't waste your money, Major Duplay. " He waited an instant beforehe gave a deeper thrust. "Or Iver's--because I don't think your purse islong enough to furnish the resources of war. You'd get the money fromhim? I'm beginning to wonder more and more at the views people contriveto take of their own actions. "

Harry had fought his fight well, but now perhaps he went wrong, even ashe had gone wrong with Mina Zabriska at Fairholme. He was not content todefeat or repel; he must triumph, he must taunt. The insolence of hisspeech and air drove Duplay to fury. If it told him he was beaten now, it made him determined not to give up the contest; it made him wish toothat he was in a country where duelling was not considered absurd. Atany rate he was minded to rebuke Harry. 

"You're a young man----" he began. 

"Tell me that when I'm beaten. It may console me, " interrupted Harry. 

"You'll be beaten, sir, sooner than you think, " said Duplay gravely. "But though you refuse my offer, I shall consider Lady Tristram. I willnot move while she lives, unless you force me to it. "

"By marrying the heiress you want?" sneered Harry. 

"By carrying out your swindling plans. " Duplay's temper began to failhim. "Listen. As soon as your engagement is announced--if it ever is--Igo to Mr Iver with what I know. If you abandon the idea of thatmarriage, you're safe from me. I have no other friends here; the restmust look after themselves. But you shall not delude my friends withfalse pretences. "

"And I shall not spoil your game with Miss Iver?"

Duplay's temper quite failed him. He had not meant this to happen; hehad pictured himself calm, Harry wild and unrestrained--either in furyor in supplication. The young man had himself in hand, firmly in hand;the elder lost self-control. 

"If you insult me again, sir, I'll throw you in the river!"

Harry's slow smile broke across his face. With all his wariness andcalculation he measured the Major's figure. The attitude of mind was notheroic; it was Harry's. Who, having ten thousand men, will go againsthim that has twenty thousand? A fool or a hero, Harry would have said, and he claimed neither name. But in the end he reckoned that he was amatch for the Major. He smiled more broadly and raised his brows, askingof sky and earth as he glanced round:

"Since when have blackmailers grown so sensitive?"

In an instant Duplay closed with him in a struggle on which hung notdeath indeed, but an unpleasant and humiliating ducking. The rain fellon both; the water waited for one. The Major was taller and heavier;Harry was younger and in better trim. Harry was cooler too. It was rudehugging, nothing more; neither of them had skill or knew more tricksthan the common dimly remembered devices of urchinhood. The fight wasmost unpicturesque, most unheroic; but it was tolerably grim for allthat. The grass grew slippery under the rain and the slithering feet;luck had its share. And just behind them ran the Queen's highway. Theydid not think of the Queen's highway. To this pass a determination to becalm, whatever else they were, had brought them. 

The varying wriggles (no more dignified word is appropriate) of theencounter ended in a stern stiff grip which locked the men one to theother, Duplay facing down the valley, Harry looking up the river. Harrycould not see over the Major's shoulder, but he saw past it, and sighteda tall dog-cart driven quickly and rather rashly down the hill. It wasraining hard now, and had not looked like rain when the dog-cartstarted. Hats were being ruined--there was some excuse for riskingbroken knees to the horse and broken necks to the riders. In the middleof his struggle Harry smiled: he put out his strength too; and he didnot warn his enemy of what he saw; yet he knew very well who was in thedog-cart. Duplay's anger had stirred him to seek a primitive thougheffective revenge. Harry was hoping to inflict a more subtle punishment. He needed only a bit of luck to help him to it; he knew how to use thechance when it came--just as well as he knew who was in the dog-cart, aswell as he guessed whence the dog-cart came. 

The luck did not fail. Duplay's right foot slipped. In the effort torecover himself he darted out his left over the edge of the bank. Harryimpelled him; the Major loosed his hold and set to work to savehimself--none too soon: both his legs were over, his feet touched water, he lay spread-eagled on the bank, half on, half off, in a ludicrousattitude; still he slipped and could not get a hold on the short slimygrass. At that moment the dog-cart was pulled up just behind them. 

"What are you doing?" cried Janie Iver, leaning forward in amazement;Mina Zabriska sat beside her with wide-open eyes. Harry stooped, caughtthe Major under the shoulders, and with a great effort hauled him up onthe bank, a sad sight, draggled and dirty. Then, as Duplay slowly rose, he turned with a start, as though he noticed the new-comers for thefirst time. He laughed as he raised his cap. 

"We didn't know we were to have spectators, " said he. "And you nearlycame in for a tragedy! He was all but gone. Weren't you, Major?"

"What were you doing?" cried Janie again. Mina was silent and still, scrutinizing both men keenly. 

"Why, we had been talking about wrestling, and the Major offered to showme a trick which he bet a shilling would floor me. Only the ground wastoo slippery; wasn't it, Major? And the trick didn't exactly come off. Iwasn't floored, so I must trouble you for a shilling, Major. "

Major Duplay did not look at Janie, still less did he meet his niece'seye. He spent a few seconds in a futile effort to rub the mud off hiscoat with muddy hands; he glanced a moment at Harry. 

"I must have another try some day, " he said, but with no greatreadiness. 

"Meanwhile--the shilling!" demanded Harry good-humoredly, a subtlemockery in his eyes alone showing the imaginary character of the betwhich he claimed to have won. 

In the presence of those two inquisitive young women Major Duplay didnot deny the debt. He felt in his pocket, found a shilling, and gave itto Harry Tristram. That young man looked at it, spun it in the air, andpocketed it. 

"Yes, a revenge whenever you like, " said he. "And now we'd better gethome, because it's begun to rain. "

"Begun to! It's rained for half-an-hour, " said Janie crossly. 

"Has it? I didn't notice. I was too busy with the Major's trick. "

As he spoke he looked full in Mina Zabriska's face. She bore his glancefor a moment, then cried to Janie, "Oh, please drive on!" The dog-cartstarted; the Major, with a stiff touch of his hat, strode along theroad. Harry was left alone by the Pool. His gayety and defiancevanished; he stood there scowling at the Pool. On the surface the honorsof the encounter were indeed his; the real peril remained, the realbattle had still to be fought. It was with heart-felt sincerity that hemuttered, as he sought for pipe and tobacco:

"I wish I'd drowned the beggar in the Pool!"

VI

THE ATTRACTION OF IT

Mr Jenkinson Neeld sat at lunch at the Imperium Club, quite happy with aneck chop, last week's _Athenæum_, and a pint of Apollinaris. To himenter disturbers of peace. 

"How are you, Neeld?" said Lord Southend, taking the chair next him. "Sit down here, Iver. Let me introduce you--Mr Iver--Mr Neeld. Bill offare, waiter. " His lordship smiled rather maliciously at Mr Neeld as hemade the introduction, which Iver acknowledged with bluff courtesy, Neeld with a timid little bow. "How are things down your way?" pursuedSouthend, addressing Iver. "Lady Tristram's very ill, I hear?"

"I'm afraid so. "

"Wonderful woman that, you know. You ought to have seen her in theseventies--when she ran away with Randolph Edge. "

A gentleman, two tables off, looked round. 

"Hush, Southend! That's his brother, " whispered Mr Neeld. 

"Whose brother?" demanded Southend. 

"That's Wilmot Edge--Sir Randolph's brother. "

"Oh, the deuce it is. I thought he'd been pilled. "

Blackballs also were an embarrassing subject; Neeld sipped hisApollinaris nervously. 

"Well, as I was saying" (Lord Southend spoke a little lower), "she wentstraight from the Duchess of Slough's ball to the station, as she was, in a low gown and a scarlet opera cloak--met Edge, whose wife had onlybeen dead three months--and went off with him. You know the rest of thestory. It was a near run for young Harry Tristram! How is the boy, Iver?"

"The boy's very much of a man indeed; we don't talk about the near runbefore him. "

Southend laughed. "A miss is as good as a mile, " he said, "eh, Neeld?I'd like to see Addie Tristram again--though I suppose she's a wreck, poor thing!"

"Why couldn't she marry the man properly, instead of bolting?" askedIver. He did not approve of such escapades. 

"Oh, he had to bolt anyhow--a thorough bad lot--debts, you know--herpeople wouldn't hear of it; besides she was engaged to Fred Nares--youdon't remember Fred? A devilish passionate fellow, with a wart on hisnose. So altogether it was easier to cut and run. Besides she liked thesort of thing, don't you know. Romantic and all that. Then Edgevanished, and the other man appeared. That turned out all right, but sheran it fine. Eh, Neeld?"

Mr Neeld was sadly flustered by these recurring references to him. Hehad no desire to pose as an authority on the subject. JosiahCholderton's diary put him in a difficulty. He wished to goodness he hadbeen left to the peaceful delights of literary journalism. 

"Well, if you'll come down to my place, I can promise to show you HarryTristram; and you can go over and see his mother if she's better. "

"By Jove, I've half a mind to! Very kind of you, Iver. You've got a fineplace, I hear. "

"I've built so many houses for other people that I may be allowed onefor myself, mayn't I? We're proud of our neighborhood, " he pursued, politely addressing himself to Mr Neeld. "If you're ever that way, Ihope you'll look me up. I shall be delighted to welcome a fellow-memberof the Imperium. "

A short chuckle escaped from Lord Southend's lips; he covered it by anexaggerated devotion to his broiled kidneys. Mr Neeld turned pink andmurmured incoherent thanks; he felt like a traitor. 

"Yes, we see a good deal of young Harry, " said Iver, with a smile--"andof other young fellows about the place too. They don't come to see me, though. I expect Janie's the attraction. You remember my girl, Southend?"

"Well, I suppose Blent's worth nine or ten thousand a year still?" Theprogress of Lord Southend's thoughts was obvious. 

"H'm. Seven or eight, I should think, as it's managed now. It's a niceplace, though, and would go a good bit better in proper hands. "

"Paterfamilias considering?"

"I don't quite make the young fellow out. He's got a good opinion ofhimself, I fancy. " Iver laughed a little. "Well, we shall see, " heended. 

"Not a bad thing to be Lady Tristram of Blent, you know, Iver. That'snone of your pinchbeck. The real thing--though, as I say, young Harry'sonly got it by the skin of his teeth. Eh, Neeld?"

Mr Neeld laid down his napkin and pushed back his chair. 

"Sit still, man. We've nearly finished, and we'll all have a cup ofcoffee together and a cigar. "

Misfortunes accumulated, for Neeld hated tobacco. But he was anxious tobe scrupulously polite to Iver, and thus to deaden the pangs ofconscience. Resigned though miserable, he went with them to thesmoking-room. Colonel Wilmot Edge looked up from the _Army and NavyGazette_, and glanced curiously at the party as they passed his table. Why were these old fellows reviving old stories? They were better leftat rest. The Colonel groaned as he went back to his newspaper. 

Happily, in the smoking-room the talk shifted to less embarrassingsubjects. Iver told of his life and doings, and Neeld found himselfdrawn to the man: he listened with interest and appreciation; he seemedbrought into touch with life; he caught himself sighing over the retiredinactive nature of his own occupations. He forgave Iver the hoardingsabout the streets; he could not forgive himself the revenge he had takenfor them. Iver and Southend spoke of big schemes in which they had beenor were engaged together--legitimate enterprises, good for the nation aswell as for themselves. How had he, a useless old fogy, dared toblackball a man like Iver? An occasional droll glance from Southendemphasized his compunction. 

"I see you've got a new thing coming out, Neeld, " said Southend, after apause in the talk. "I remember old Cholderton very well. He was astarchy old chap, but he knew his subjects. Makes rather heavy reading, I should think, eh?"

"Not all of it, not by any means all of it, " Neeld assured him. "Hedoesn't confine himself to business matters. "

"Still, even old Joe Cholderton's recreations----"

"He was certainly mainly an observer, but he saw some interesting thingsand people. " There was a renewed touch of nervousness in Mr Neeld'smanner. 

"Interesting people? H'm. Then I hope he's discreet?"

"Or that Mr Neeld will be discreet for him, " Iver put in. "Though Idon't know why interesting people are supposed to create a need fordiscretion. "

"Oh yes, you do, Iver. You know the world. Don't you be too discreet, Neeld. Give us a taste of Joe's lighter style. "

Neeld did not quite approve of his deceased and respected friend beingreferred to as "Joe, " nor did he desire to discuss in that company whathe had and what he had not suppressed in the Journal. 

"I have used the best of my judgment, " he said primly, and was surprisedto find Iver smiling at him with an amused approval. 

"The least likely men break out, " Lord Southend continued hopefully. "The Baptist minister down at my place once waylaid the wife of theChairman of Quarter Sessions and asked her to run away with him. "

"That's one of your Nonconformist stories, Southend. I never believethem, " said Iver. 

"Oh, I'm not saying anything. She was a pretty woman. I just gave it asan illustration. I happen to know it's true, because she told meherself. "

"Ah, I'd begin to listen if he'd told you, " was Iver's cautious comment. 

"You give us the whole of old Joe Cholderton!" was Lord Southend's finalinjunction. 

"Imagine if I did!" thought Neeld, beginning to feel some of the joy ofholding a secret. 

Presently Southend took his leave, saying he had an engagement. To hisown surprise Neeld did not feel this to be an unwarrantable proceeding;he sat on with Iver, and found himself cunningly encouraging hiscompanion to talk again about the Tristrams. The story in the Journalhad not lost its interest for him; he had read it over more than onceagain; it was strange to be brought into contact, even at second-hand, with the people whose lives and fortunes it concerned. It was evidentthat Iver, on his side, had for some reason been thinking of theTristrams too, and he responded readily to Neeld's veiled invitation. He described Blent for him; he told him how Lady Tristram had looked, and that her illness was supposed to be fatal; he talked again of HarryTristram, her destined successor. But he said no more of his daughter. Neeld was left without any clear idea that his companion's concern withthe Tristrams was more than that of a neighbor or beyond what an ancientfamily with odd episodes in its history might naturally inspire. 

"Oh, you must come to Blentmouth, Mr Neeld, you must indeed. For a fewdays, now? Choose your time, only let it be soon. Why, if you made yourway into the library at Blent, you might happen on a find there! A lotof interesting stuff there, I'm told. And we shall be very grateful fora visit. "

Neeld was conscious of a strong desire to go to Blentmouth. But it wouldbe a wrong thing to do; he felt that he could not fairly accept Iver'shospitality. And he felt, moreover, that he had much better not gethimself mixed up with the Tristrams of Blent. No man is bound to act onhearsay evidence, especially when that evidence has been acquiredthrough a confidential channel. But if he came to know the Tristrams, toknow Harry Tristram, his position would certainly be peculiar. Well, that was in the end why he wanted to do it. 

Iver rose and held out his hand. "I must go, " he said. "Fairholme, Blentmouth! I hope I shall have a letter from you soon, to tell us tolook out for you. "

One of the unexpected likings that occur between people had happened. Each man felt it and recognized it in the other. They were alone in theroom for the moment. 

"Mr Iver, " said Neeld, in his precise prim tones, "I must make aconfession to you. When you were up for this club I--my vote was not inyour favor. "

During a minute's silence Iver looked at him with amusement and almostwith affection. 

"I'm glad you've told me that. "

"Well, I'm glad I have too. " Neeld's laugh was nervous. 

"Because it shows that you're thinking of coming to Blentmouth. "

"Well--yes, I am, " answered Neeld, smiling. And they shook hands. Herewas the beginning of a friendship; here, also, Neeld's entry on thescene where Harry Tristram's fortunes formed the subject of the play. 

It was now a foregone conclusion that Mr Neeld would fall beforetemptation and come to Blentmouth. There had been little doubt about itall along; his confession to Iver removed the last real obstacle. Thestory in Josiah Cholderton's Journal had him in its grip; on the firstoccasion of trial his resolution not to be mixed up with the Tristramsmelted away. Perhaps he consoled himself by saying that he would be, like his deceased and respected friend, mainly an observer. The Imp, itmay be remembered, had gone to Merrion Lodge with exactly the same idea;it has been seen how it fared with her. 

By the Blent the drama seemed very considerately to be waiting for him. It says much for Major Duplay that his utter and humiliating defeat bythe Pool had not driven him into any hasty action or shaken him in hisoriginal purpose. He was abiding by the offer which he had made, although the offer had been scornfully rejected. If he could by anymeans avoid it, he was determined not to move while Lady Tristram lived. Harry might force him to act sooner; that rested with Harry, not withhim. Meanwhile he declined to explain even to Mina what had occurred bythe Pool, and treated her open incredulity as to Harry's explanationwith silence or a snub. The Major was not happy at this time; yet hisunhappiness was nothing to the deep woe, and indeed terror, which hadsettled on Mina Zabriska. She had guessed enough to see that, for themoment at least, Harry had succeeded in handling Duplay so roughly as todelay, if not to thwart, his operations; what would he not do to her, whom he must know to be the original cause of the trouble? She used tostand on the terrace at Merrion and wonder about this; and she dared notgo to Fairholme lest she should encounter Harry. She made many goodresolutions for the future, but there was no comfort in the presentdays. 

The resolutions went for nothing, even in the moment in which they weremade. She had suffered for meddling; that was bad: it was worse to theImp not to meddle; inactivity was the one thing unendurable. 

She too, like old Mr Neeld in London town, was drawn by the interest ofthe position, by the need of seeing how Harry Tristram fought his fight. For four days she resisted; on the evening of the fifth, after dinner, while the Major dozed, she came out on the terrace in a cloak and lookeddown the hill. It was rather dark, and Blent Hall loomed dimly in thevalley below. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, and beganto descend the hill: she had no special purpose; she wanted a nearerlook at Blent, and it was a fine night for a stroll. She came to theroad, crossed it after a momentary hesitation, and stood by the gate ofthe little foot-bridge, which, in the days before enmity arose, HarryTristram had told her was never locked. It was not now. Mina advanced tothe middle of the bridge and leant on the parapet, her eyes set onBlent Hall. There were lights in the lower windows; one window on theupper floor was lighted too. There, doubtless, Lady Tristram lay slowlydying; somewhere else in the house Harry was keeping his guard andperfecting his defences. The absolute peace and rest of the outwardview, the sleepless vigilance and unceasing battle within, a battle thatdeath made keener and could not lull to rest--this contrast came uponMina with a strange painfulness; her eyes filled with tears as she stoodlooking. 

A man came out into the garden and lit a cigar; she knew it was Harry;she did not move. He sauntered toward the bridge; she held her ground;though he should strike her, she would have speech with him to-night. Hewas by the bridge and had his hand on the gate at the Blent end of itbefore he saw her. He stood still a moment, then came to her side, andleant as she was leaning over the parapet. He was bare-headed--she sawhis thick hair and his peaked forehead; he smoked steadily; he showed nosurprise at seeing her, and he did not speak to her for a long time. Atlast, still without looking at her, he began. She could just make outhis smile, or thought she could; at any rate she was sure it was there. 

"Well, Mina de Kries?" said he. She started a little. "Oh, I don'tbelieve in the late Zabriska; I don't believe you're grown up; I thinkyou're about fifteen--a beastly age. " He put his cigar back in hismouth. 

"You see that window?" he resumed in a moment. "And you know what'shappening behind it? My mother's dying there. Well, how's the Major? Hashe got that trick in better order yet?"

She found her tongue with difficulty. 

"Does Lady Tristram know about--about me?" she stammered. 

"I sometimes lie to my mother, " said Harry, flicking his ash into theriver. "Why do you lie to your uncle, though?"

"I didn't lie. You know I didn't lie. "

He shrugged his shoulders wearily and relapsed into silence. Silencethere was till, a minute or two later, it was broken by a little sobfrom Mina Zabriska. He turned his head toward her; then he took hold ofher arm and twisted her face round to him. The tears were running downher cheeks. 

"I'm so, so sorry, " she murmured. "I didn't mean to; and I did it! Andnow--now I can't stop it. You needn't believe me if you don't like, butI'm--I'm miserable and--and frightened. "

He flung his cigar into the water and put his hands in his pockets. Sohe stood watching her, his body swaying a little to and fro; his eyeswere suspicious of her, yet they seemed amused also, and they were notcruel; it was not such a look as he had given her when they parted bythe Pool. 

"If it were true?" she asked. "I mean, couldn't Lady Tristramsomehow----?"

"If what was true? Oh, the nonsense you told Duplay?" He laughed. "If itwas true, I should be a nobody and nobody's son. I suppose that wouldamuse you very much, wouldn't it? You wouldn't have come to Merrion fornothing then! But as it isn't true, what's the use of talking?"

He won no belief from her when he said that it was not true; to herquick mind the concentrated bitterness with which he described what itwould mean to him showed that he believed it and that the thought was nonew one; in imagination he had heard the world calling him many timeswhat he now called himself--if the thing were true. She drew her cloakround her and shivered. 

"Cold?" he asked. 

"No. Wretched, wretched. "

"Would you like to see my mother?"

"You wouldn't let her see me?"

"She's asleep, and the nurse is at supper--not that she'd matter. Comealong. "

He turned and began to walk quickly toward the house; Mina followed himas though in a dream. They entered a large hall. It was dark, save forone candle, and she could see nothing of its furniture. He led herstraight up a broad oak staircase that rose from the middle of it, andthen along a corridor. The polished oak gleamed here and there as theypassed candles in brackets on the wall, and was slippery under herunaccustomed feet. The whole house was very still--still, cool, and verypeaceful. 

Cautiously he opened a door and beckoned her to follow him. Lights wereburning in the room. Lady Tristram lay sleeping; her hair, still fairand golden, spread over the pillow; her face was calm and unlined. Sheseemed a young and beautiful girl wasted by a fever; but the fever wasthe fever of life as well as of disease. Thus Mina saw again the ladyshe had seen at Heidelberg. 

"She won't wake--she's had her sleeping draught, " he said; and Mina tookhim to mean that she might linger a moment more. She cast her eyes roundthe room. Over the fireplace, facing the bed, was a full-length portraitof a girl. She was dressed all in red; the glory of her white neck, herbrilliant hair, and her blue eyes rose out of the scarlet setting. Thiswas Addie Tristram in her prime; as she was when she fled with RandolphEdge, as she was when she cried in the little room at Heidelberg, "Think of the difference it makes, the enormous difference!"

"My mother likes to have that picture there, " Harry explained. 

The sleeping woman stirred faintly. In obedience to a look from Harry, Mina followed him from the room, and they passed downstairs and throughthe hall together in silence. He came with her as far as the bridge. There he paused. The scene they had left had apparently stirred no newemotion in him; but Mina Zabriska was trembling and moved to the heart. 

"Now you've seen her--and before that you'd seen me. And perhaps nowyou'll understand that we're the Tristrams of Blent, and that we liveand die that. " His voice grew a little louder. "And your nonsense!" heexclaimed; "it's all a lie. But if it was true? It's the blood, isn'tit, not the law, that matters? It's her blood and my blood. That's myreal title to Blent!"

In the midst of his lying he spoke truth there, and Mina knew it. Itseemed as though there, to her, in the privacy of that night, he lied asbut a matter of form; his true heart, his true purpose, and his truecreed he showed her in his last words. By right of blood he claimed tostand master of Blent, and so he meant to stand. 

"Yes, " she said. "Yes, yes. God help you to it. " She turned and lefthim, and ran up the hill, catching her breath in sobs again. 

Harry Tristram stood and watched her as long as he could see herretreating figure. There were no signs of excitement about him; even hisconfession of faith he had spoken calmly, although with strong emphasis. He smiled now as he turned on his heel and took his way back to thehouse. 

"The Major must play his hand alone now, " he said; "he'll get no morehelp from her. " He paused a moment. "It's a funny thing, though. That'snot really why I took her up. "

He shook his head in puzzle; perhaps he could hardly be expected torecognize that it was that pride of his--pride in his mother, his race, himself--which had made him bid Mina Zabriska look upon Lady Tristram asshe slept. 

VII

THE MOMENT DRAWS NEAR

Not knowing your own mind, though generally referred to as anintellectual weakness and sometimes as a moral fault, is none the lessnow and then a pleasant state to live in for a while. There is arichness of possibility about it, a variety of prospects open, a choiceof roads each in its own fashion attractive. Besides, you can alwaystell yourself that it is prudent to look all round the question andconsider all alternatives. The pleasure, like most pleasures, is greaterwhen it comes once in a way to a person unaccustomed to it. Janie Iverhad been brought up to know her own mind; it was the eleventhcommandment in the Iver household. Iver entertained the intellectual, his wife the moral objection to shilly-shallying; their daughter'straining, while conducted with all kindness, had been eminentlysensible, and early days had offered few temptations to stray from thepath of the obviously desirable. The case was different now; richesbrought a change, the world revealed its resources, life was spreadingout its diverse wares. Janie was much puzzled as to what she ought todo, more as to what she wanted to do, most of all as to what she wouldin the end do--unless indeed the fact that she was puzzled continued torank as the greatest puzzle of all. 

Naturally the puzzles were personified--or the persons made intopuzzles. Men became lives to her, as well as individuals--the Tristram, the Duplay, the Broadley life; her opinion of the life complicated herfeeling toward the person. The Tristram life attracted her strongly, thelife of the great lady; Harry had his fascination too; but she did notthink that she and Harry would be very happy together, woman and man. She was loth to let him go, with all that he meant; perhaps she wouldhave been secretly relieved if fate had taken him away from her. TheDuplay life promised another sort of joy: the Major's experience wasworld-wide, his knowledge various, his conversation full of hints of theunexplored; she would be broadening her life if she identified it withhis. Yet the Major was an approximate forty (on one side or the other), in a few years would seem rather old, and was not even now capable ofraising a very strong sentiment; there too she would be taking ratherthe life than the man. Lastly there was that quiet Broadley life, to betransformed in some degree, doubtless, by her wealth, but likely toremain in essentials the peaceful homely existence which she knew verywell. It had little to set against the rival prospects; yet there was afeeling that in either of the other two existences she would misssomething; and that something seemed to be Bob Broadley himself. 

She found herself thinking, in terms superficially repugnant toconvention, that she would like to pay long visits to the other men, buthave Bob to come home to when she was inclined for rest andtranquillity. Her perplexity was not strange in itself, but it wasstrange and new to her; imbued with the parental views aboutshilly-shallying, she was angry with herself and inclined to be ashamed. The excuse she had made to Mina Zabriska did not acquit her in her owneyes. Yet she was also interested, excited, and pleasantly awake to theimportance which her indecision gave her. 

Judged from the outside, she was not open to blame in her attitudetoward Harry; he was not in love with her, and hardly pretended to be. She met him fairly on a friendly footing of business; he was the sinnerin that, while what she offered was undoubtedly hers, what he proposedto give in return was only precariously his. 

Nor had Duplay any cause of complaint in being kept waiting; he would beheld exceedingly lucky not to be sent to the right-about instantly. Butwith Bob Broadley the matter was different. On the subtle question ofwhat exactly constitutes "encouragement" (it is the technical term) inthese cases it is not perhaps necessary to enter; but false hopes might, no doubt, arise from her visits to Mingham, from her habit of riding upthe road by the river about the time when Bob would be likely to beriding down it, or of sauntering by the Pool on the days when he drovehis gig into Blentmouth on business--all this being beyond and outsidelegitimate meetings at Fairholme itself. Unless she meant to marry himshe might indeed raise hopes that were false. 

Yes, but it did not seem as though she did. Bob was humble. She hadtyrannized over him even before the Ivers grew so very rich. (They hadbegun in a small villa at Blentmouth--Miss Swinkerton lived there now. )It was natural that she should tyrannize still. He saw that she liked tomeet him; grateful for friendship, he was incredulous of more. Hisdisposition may plead in excuse for her; whatever she did, she would notdisappoint a confident hope. 

But she was always so glad to see him, and when she was with him, he wasno perplexity, he was only her dear old friend. Well, and one thingbesides--a man whom it was rather amusing to try to get a compliment outof, to try to torment into a manifestation of devotion; it was allthere; Janie liked to lure it to the surface sometimes. But Bob was noteven visibly miserable; he was always equable, even jolly, with so muchto say about his horses and his farm that sentiment did not alwayssecure its fair share of the interview. Janie, not being sentimentaleither, liked all this even while it affronted her vanity. 

"Send the gig home and stay and talk, " she commanded, as he stopped byher on the road; he was returning from Blentmouth to Mingham and foundher strolling by the Pool. "I want to speak to you. "

He had his bailiff with him--they had been selling a cow--and left himto take the gig home. He shook hands with frank cordiality. 

"That's awfully nice of you, " he said. "What about?"

"Nothing in particular, " said she. "Mayn't I want it just generally?"

"Oh, well, I thought you meant there was something special. I've soldthe cow well, Miss Janie. "

"Bother the cow! Why haven't you been to Fairholme?"

"Well, in fact, I'm not sure that Mr Iver is death on seeing me theretoo often. But I shall turn up all right soon. "

"Have you been going about anywhere?"

"No. Been up at Mingham most of the time. "

"Isn't that rather lonely?"

"Lonely? Good Heavens, no! I've got too much to do. "

Janie glanced at him; what was to be done with a man who treatedprovocative suggestions as though they were sincere questions? If he hadnot cared for her now! But she knew he did. 

"Well, I've been very dull, anyhow. One never sees anybody fresh atFairholme now. It's always either Mr. Tristram or Major Duplay. "

"Well, I shouldn't be very fresh either, should I?" The names shementioned drew no sign from him. 

"I don't count you as a visitor at all--and they are visitors, Isuppose. " She seemed a little in doubt; yet both the gentlemen, at anyrate, were not presumably received as members of the family. 

"I'll tell you what I've been thinking about, " said Bob, speakingslowly, and apparently approaching a momentous announcement. 

"Yes, " she said, turning to him with interest, and watching his handsomeopen face; it was not a very clever face, but it was a very pleasantone; she enjoyed looking at it. 

"I've been thinking that I'll sell the black horse, but I can't make upmy mind whether to do it now or keep him through the summer and sell himwhen hunting begins. I don't know which would pay me best. "

"That certainly is a very important question, " remarked Janie, with awealth of sarcasm. 

"Well, it gives me a lot of trouble, Miss Janie. "

"Does it? And it doesn't interest me in the very--Yes, it does, Bob, very much. I'm sorry. Of course it does. Only----"

"Anything the matter with you?" Bob inquired with friendly solicitude. 

"No--not just now. There never is, somehow, when I'm with you. And let'stalk about the black horse--it'll be soothing. Is the price of oats afactor?"

Bob laughed a little, but did not proceed with the discussion. Theysauntered on in silence for a few minutes, Bob taking out his tobacco. 

"Worried, aren't you?" he asked, lighting his pipe. 

"Yes, " she answered shortly. 

"Was that what you wanted to say to me?"

"No, of course not; as if I should talk to you about it!"

"Don't suppose you would, no. Still, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Do you feel friendly to me?"

"Friendly! Well----!" He laughed. "What do you think about it yourself?"he asked. "Look here, I don't bother you, but I'm here when you wantme. "

"When I want you?"

"I mean, if I can do anything for you, or--or advise you. I don't thinkI'm a fool, you know. "

"I'm really glad to hear you've got as far as that, " she remarked rathertartly. "Your fault, Bob, is not thinking nearly enough of yourself. "

"You'll soon change that, if you say much more. " His pleasure in herimplied praise was obvious, but he did not read a single word more intoher speech than the words she uttered. 

"And you are friendly to me--still?"

"It doesn't make any difference to me whether I see you or not----"

"What?" she cried. The next moment she was laughing. "Thanks, Bob, but--but you've a funny way of putting things sometimes. " She laid herhand on his arm for a moment, sighing, "Dear old Bob!"

"Oh, you know what I mean, " he said, puffing away. His healthy skin hadflushed a trifle, but that was his only reply to her little caress. 

"If--if I came to you some day and said I'd been a fool, or been made afool of, and was very unhappy, and--and wanted comforting, would youstill be nice to me?"

His answer came after a puff and a pause. 

"Well, if you ever get like that, I should recommend you just to try mefor what I'm worth, " he said. Her eyes were fixed on his face, but hedid not look at her. Some men would have seen in her appeal anopportunity of trying to win from her more than she was giving. The casedid not present itself in that light to Bob Broadley. He did not presshis own advantage, he hardly believed in it; and he had, besides, avague idea that he would spoil for her the feeling she had if he greetedit with too much enthusiasm. What she wanted was a friend--a solid, possibly rather stolid, friend; with that commodity he was prepared toprovide her. Any sign of agitation in her he answered and hoped to quietby an increased calm in his own manner. The humblest of men have momentsof pride; it must be confessed that Bob thought he was behaving not onlywith proper feeling but also with considerable tact--a tact that wasbased on knowledge of women. 

Interviews such as these--and they were not infrequent--formed a ratherincongruous background, but also an undeniable relief, to the life Janiewas leading at Fairholme. That seemed to have little concern with BobBroadley and to be engrossed in the struggle between Harry and Duplay. Both men pressed on. Harry had not been scared away. Duplay would winwithout using his secret weapon, if he could. Each had his manner;Harry's constrained yet direct; the Major's more florid, more expressedin glances, compliments, and attentions. Neither had yet risked thedecisive word. Janie was playing for delay. The Major seemed inclined togrant it her; he would make every step firm under him before he tookanother forward. But Harry grew impatient, was imperious in his calls onher time, and might face her with the demand for an answer any day. Shecould not explain how it was, but somehow his conduct seemed to beinfluenced by the progress of Lady Tristram's illness. She gathered thisidea from words he let fall; perhaps his mother wanted to see the affairsettled before she died. Duplay often spoke of the illness too; itcould have no importance for him at least, she thought. 

About Harry Tristram anyhow she was right. He was using to its fullvalue his rival's chivalrous desire to make no movement during LadyTristram's lifetime; he reckoned on it and meant to profit by it. TheMajor had indeed conveyed to him that the chivalry had its limits; evenif that were so, Harry would be no worse off; and there was the chancethat Duplay would not speak. A look of brutality would be given to anyaction of his while Lady Tristram lay dying; Harry hoped this aspect ofhis conduct would frighten him. At least it was worth risking. Thedoctors talked of two months more; Harry Tristram meant to be engagedbefore one of them was out. Could he be married before the second ranits course? Mrs Iver would have scoffed at the idea, and Janie shrunkfrom it. But a dying mother's appeal would count with almostirresistible strength in such a case; and Harry was sure of beingfurnished with this aid. 

He came to Fairholme a day or two after Janie had talked with BobBroadley. She was on the lawn; with her Mina Zabriska and a small, neat, elderly man, who was introduced to him as Mr Jenkinson Neeld. Harry paidlittle attention to this insignificant person, and gave Mina no morethan a careless shake of the hand and a good-humored amused nod; he wasnot afraid of her any longer. She had done what harm she could. If shedid anything more now it would be on his side. Else why had he shown herLady Tristram? He claimed Janie and contrived to lead her to some chairson the other side of the lawn. 

"And that's Mr Harry Tristram?" said Neeld, looking at him intentlythrough his spectacles. 

"Yes, " said the Imp briefly--she was at the moment rather bored by Mr. Neeld. 

"An interesting-looking young man. "

"Yes, he's interesting. " And she added a moment later, "You're having agood look at him, Mr Neeld. "

"Dear me, was I staring? I hope not. But--well, we've all heard of hismother, you know. "

"I'm afraid the next thing we hear about her will be the last. " What shehad seen at Blent Hall was in her mind and she spoke sadly. "Mr Tristramwill succeed to his throne soon now. "

Neeld looked at her as if he were about to speak, but he said nothing, and his eyes wandered back to Harry again. 

"They're friends--Miss Iver and he?" he asked at last. 

"Oh, it's no secret that he wants to marry her. "

"And does she----?"

Mina laughed, not very naturally. "It's something to be Lady Tristram ofBlent. " She smiled to think how much more her words meant to herselfthan they could mean to her companion. She would have been amazed tofind that Neeld was thinking that she would not speak so lightly if sheknew what he did. 

Harry wanted to marry Janie Iver! With a sudden revulsion of feelingNeeld wished himself far from Blentmouth. However it was his duty totalk to this sharp little foreign woman, and he meant to try. A fewpolite questions brought him to the point of inquiring her nationality. 

"Oh, we're Swiss, French Swiss. But I was born at Heidelberg. My motherlived there after my father died. My uncle--who lives with me--MajorDuplay, is her brother; he was in the Swiss Service. "

"A pleasant society at Heidelberg, I dare say?"

"Rather dull, " said Mina. It seemed much the same at Blentmouth at themoment. 

Iver strolled out from his study on to the lawn. He cast a glance towardhis daughter and Harry, frowned slightly, and sat down on Mina's otherside. He had a newspaper in his hand, and he held it up as he spoke toNeeld across Mina. 

"Your book's promised for the 15th, I see, Neeld. "

"Yes, it's to be out then. "

Mina was delighted at being presented with a topic. Sometimes it is themost precious of gifts. 

"Oh, Mr Neeld, have you written a book? How interesting! What is it? Anovel?"

"My dear Madame Zabriska!" murmured Neeld, feeling as if he were beingmade fun of. "And it's not really my book. I've only edited it. "

"But that's just as good, " Mina insisted amiably. "Do tell me what itis. "

"Here you are, Mina. There's the full title and description for you. There's nothing else in the paper. " Iver handed it to her with a stifledyawn. She read and turned to Neeld with a quick jerk of her head. 

"Journal and Correspondence of Josiah Cholderton!" she repeated. "Oh, but--oh, but--well, that is curious! Why, we used to know MrCholderton!"

"You knew Mr Cholderton?" said Mr Neeld in mild surprise. Then, with arecollection, he added, "Oh, at Heidelberg, I dare say? But you musthave been a child?"

"Yes, I was. Does he talk about Heidelberg?"

"He mentions it once or twice. " In spite of himself Neeld began to feelthat he was within measurable distance of getting on to difficultground. 

"What fun if he mentioned me! Oh, but of course he wouldn't say anythingabout a child of five!"

The slightest start ran through Neeld's figure; it passed unnoticed. Helooked sharply at Mina Zabriska. She went on, in all innocence thistime; she had no reason to think that Cholderton had been in possessionof any secrets, and if he had, it would not have occurred to her that hewould record them. 

"He knew my mother quite well; he used to come and see us. Does hemention her--Madame de Kries?"

There was a perceptible pause; then Neeld answered primly:

"I'm afraid you won't find your mother's name mentioned in Mr. Cholderton's Journal, Madame Zabriska. "

"How horrid!" remarked Mina, greatly disappointed; she regarded Mr Neeldwith a new interest all the same. 

They were both struck with this strange coincidence--as it seemed tothem; though in fact that they should meet at Blentmouth was notproperly a coincidence at all. There was nothing surprising about it;the same cause and similar impulses had brought them both there. Thewoman who lay dying at Blent and the young man who sat making love underthe tree yonder--these and no more far-fetched causes--had brought themboth where they were. Mina knew the truth about herself, Neeld abouthimself; neither knew or guessed it about the other. Hence their wonderand their unreasonable feeling that there was something of a fatebringing them together in that place. 

"You're sure he says nothing about us?" she urged. 

"You'll not find a word, " he replied, sticking to the form of assertionthat salved his conscience. He looked across the lawn again, but Janieand Harry had disappeared amongst the bushes. 

"You're sort of old acquaintances at second-hand, then, " said Iver, smiling. "Cholderton's the connecting link. "

"He didn't like me, " remarked Mina. "He used to call me the Imp. "

"Yes, yes, " said Neeld in absent-minded acquiescence. "Yes, the Imp. "

"You don't seem much surprised!" cried Mina in mock indignation. 

"Surprised?" He started more violently. "Oh, yes--I--I-- Of course!I'm----" A laugh from his host spared him the effort of furtherapologies. But he was a good deal shaken; he had nearly betrayed hisknowledge of the Imp. Indeed he could not rid himself of the idea thatthere was a very inquisitive look in Madame Zabriska's large eyes. 

Mina risked one more question, put very carelessly. 

"I think he must have met Lady Tristram there once or twice. Does he sayanything about her?"

"Not a word, " said Neeld, grasping the nettle firmly this time. 

Mina took another look at him, but he blinked resolutely behind hisglasses. 

"Well, it's just like Mr Cholderton to leave out all the interestingthings, " she observed resignedly. "Only I wonder why you edit his bookif it's like that, you know. "

"Hello, what's that?" exclaimed Iver, suddenly sitting up in his chair. 

They heard the sound of a horse's galloping on the road outside. Thenoise of the hoofs stopped suddenly. They sat listening. In a minute ortwo the butler led a groom in the Tristram livery on to the lawn. Hecame quickly across to Iver, touching his hat. 

"Beg pardon, sir, but could I see Mr Tristram? I've an important messagefor him. "

At the same moment Janie and Harry Tristram came out on to the grass. Harry saw the groom and was with them in a moment, Janie following. 

"Well, Sam, what is it? You were riding hard. "

"Her ladyship has had a relapse, sir, and Dr Fryer ordered me to rideover and tell you at once. No time to lose, he said, sir. "

"Did you bring a horse for me?"

"No, sir. But I'm riding Quilldriver. "

"I'll go back on him. You can walk. " He turned to the rest. "I must goat once, " he said. "I don't know what this may mean. "

"Not so bad as it sounds, I hope, " said Iver. "But you'd best be off atonce. "

Harry included Mina and Mr Neeld in one light nod, and walked brisklytoward the gate, Iver and Janie accompanying him. Mina and Neeld wereleft together, and sat in silence some moments. 

"It sounds as if she was dying, " said Mina at last in a low voice. 

"Yes, poor woman!"

"I saw her once lately. She was very beautiful, Mr Neeld. "

"Yes, yes, to her own great trouble, poor thing!"

"You knew about----?"

"Oh, everybody knew, Madame Zabriska. "

"Yes, and now she's dying!" She turned to him, looking him fairly in theface. "And Harry'll be Tristram of Blent, " she said. 

"Yes, " said Neeld. "He'll be Tristram of Blent. "

Both fell into silence again, looking absently at the sunshine playingamong the trees. They were not to share their secret just yet. A linkwas missing between them still. 

Harry came to where the horse was, and stood there for a moment, whilethe groom altered the stirrups to suit him. 

"It's the beginning of the end, if not the end itself, " he said. 

"Our earnest good wishes to her. "

"My love, " said Janie. Her father glanced quickly at her. 

Harry jumped into the saddle, waved his hand to them, and started at agallop for Blent. The groom, with another touch of his hat, trudged offin his master's track. Janie Iver stood looking as long as Harry was insight. 

"He won't spare the horse, " said Iver. 

"Well, he can't this time; and anyhow he wouldn't, if he wanted to getthere. " She took her father's arm and pressed it. "Father, HarryTristram has just asked me to marry him. He said Lady Tristram wanted itsettled before--before she died, or he wouldn't have spoken so soon. "

"Well, Janie dear?"

"When the groom came, I had just told him that I would give him ananswer in a week. But now!" She made a gesture with her free hand; itseemed to mean bewilderment. She could not tell what would happen now. 

VIII

DUTY AND MR. NEELD

When Mina Zabriska brought back the news from Fairholme, and announcedit with an intensity of significance which the sudden aggravation of anillness long known to be mortal hardly accounted for, Major Duplay grewvery solemn. The moment for action approached, and the nearer it came, the less was the Major satisfied with his position and resources. Thescene by the Pool had taught him that he would have a stiff fight. Hehad been hard hit by Harry's shrewd suggestion that he must ask Iverhimself for the means of proving what he meant to tell Iver. The onlyalternative, however, was to procure money for the necessaryinvestigations from his niece; and his niece, though comfortably off, was not rich. Nor was she any longer zealous in the cause. The Imp wassulky and sullen with him, sorry she had ever touched the affair at all, ready, he suspected, to grasp at any excuse for letting it drop. Thistemper of hers foreboded a refusal to open her purse. It was serious inanother way. Of himself Duplay knew nothing; Mina was his only witness;her evidence, though really second-hand, was undoubtedly weighty; itwould at least make inquiries necessary. But would she give it? Duplaywas conscious that she was capable of turning round on him and declaringthat she had made a blunder. If she did that, what would happen? Duplaywas sure that Harry had formal proofs, good and valid _prima facie_; hewould need Mina, money, and time to upset them. There were moments whenthe Major himself wished that he had relied on his own attractions, andnot challenged Harry to battle on any issue save their respective powerto win Janie Iver's affections. But it seemed too late to go back. Besides, he was in a rage with Harry; his defeat by the Pool rankled. Harry, as usual, had spared his enemy none of the bitterness of defeat;Duplay would now take pleasure in humbling him for the sake of thetriumph itself, apart from its effect on the Ivers, father and daughter. But could he do it? He abode by the conclusion that he was bound to try, but he was not happy in it. 

Harry's attitude would be simple. He would at the proper time producehis certificates, testifying to the death of Sir Randolph, the marriageof his parents, his own birth. The copies were in perfect order and dulyauthenticated; they were evidence in themselves; the originals could behad and would bear out the copies. All this had been well looked after, and Duplay did not doubt it. What had he to set against it? Only thatthe third certificate was false, and that somewhere--neither he nor evenMina knew where--bearing some dates--neither he nor Mina knewwhat--there must be two other certificates--one fatal to Harry's case asfixing his birth at an earlier date, the other throwing at least gravesuspicion on it by recording a second ceremony of marriage. But wherewere these certificates? Conceivably they had been destroyed; that wasnot likely, but it was possible. At any rate, to find them would needmuch time and some money. On reflection, the Major could not blame Harryfor defying him by the Pool. 

It will be seen that the information which Mina had gleaned from hermother, and filled in from her own childish recollection, was not sominute in the matter of dates as that which Madame de Kries had given atthe time of the events to Mr Cholderton, and which was now locked awayin the drawer at Mr Jenkinson Neeld's chambers. The Major would havebeen materially assisted by a sight of that document; it would havenarrowed the necessary area of inquiry and given a definiteness to hisassertions which must have carried added weight with Mr Iver. As it was, he began to be convinced that Mina would decline to remember any dateseven approximately, and this was all she had professed to do in herfirst disclosure. Duplay acknowledged that, as matters stood, thebetting was in favor of his adversary. 

Mina, being sulky, would not talk to her uncle; she could not talk toJanie Iver; she did not see Harry, and would not have dared to talk tohim if she had. But it need hardly be said that she was dying to talk tosomebody. With such matters on hand, she struggled against silence likesoda-water against the cork. Merely to stare down at Blent and wonderwhat was happening there whetted a curiosity it could not satisfy. Shefelt out of the game, and the feeling was intolerable. As a last resort, in a last effort to keep in touch with it, although she had been warnedthat she would find nothing of interest to her in the volume, shetelegraphed to a bookseller in London to send her Mr. Cholderton'sJournal. It came the day after it was published, four days after she hadmade Mr Neeld's acquaintance, and while Lady Tristram, contrary toexpectation, still held death at arm's length and lay looking at her ownpicture. The next morning Neeld received a pressing invitation to go totea at Merrion Lodge. Without a moment's hesitation he went; with himtoo all resolutions to know and to care nothing further about the mattervanished before the first chance of seeing more of it. And Mina hadbeen Mina de Kries. 

She received him in the library; the Journal lay on the table. Somethinghad restored animation to her manner and malice to her eyes; those whoknew her well would have conjectured that she saw her way to makingsomebody uncomfortable. But there was also an underlying nervousnesswhich seemed to hint at something beyond. She began by flattering hervisitor outrageously and indulging in a number of false statementsregarding her delight with the Journal and the amusement and instructionshe had gained from it; she even professed to have mastered theHygroxeric Method, observing that a note by the Editor put the wholething in a nutshell. Much pleased, yet vaguely disappointed, Mr Neeldconcluded that she had no more to say about the visit to Heidelberg. 

The Imp turned over the pages leisurely while Neeld sipped his tea. 

"I see you put little asterisk things where you leave out anything, " sheobserved. "That's convenient, isn't it?"

"I think it's usual, " said he. 

"And another thing you do--Oh, you really are a splendid editor!--youput the date at the top of every page--even where Mr Cholderton's entryruns over ever so many pages. He is rather long sometimes, isn't he?"

"I've always found the date at the top of the page a convenience inreading myself, " said Mr Neeld. 

"Yes, it tells you just where you are--and where Mr Cholderton was. " Shelaughed a little. "Yes, look here, page 365, May 1875, he's at Berlin!Then there are some asterisks"--Mr Neeld looked up from his tea--"andyou turn over the page" (the Imp turned over with the air of adiscoverer), "and you find him at Interlaken in--why, in August, MrNeeld!" An amiable surprise appeared on her face. "Where was he inbetween?" she asked. 

"I--I suppose he stayed at Berlin. "

"Oh, perhaps. No--look here. He says, 'I had not previously met SirSilas Minting, as I left Berlin before he arrived in the beginning ofJune. '"

The Imp laid down the Journal, leant back in her chair, and regardedNeeld steadily. 

"You told me right, " she added; "I don't find any mention of mymother--nor of Heidelberg. It's rather funny that he doesn't mentionHeidelberg. "

She poured out a second cup of tea and--waited. The first part of herwork was done. She had made Neeld very uncomfortable. "Because, " sheadded, after she had given her previous remarks time to soak in, "between May and August 1875 is just about the time I remember him atHeidelberg--the time when he met Mrs Fitzhubert, you know. "

She nodded her head slightly toward the window, the window that lookeddown to the valley and gave a view of the house where Lady Tristram lay. Mina was keenly excited now. Had the Journal told Neeld anything? Wasthat the meaning of his asterisks?

"There was something about his visit to Heidelberg, but it containednothing of public interest, Madame Zabriska, and in my discretion Iomitted it. "

"Why didn't you tell me that the other day? You gave me to understandthat he only mentioned Heidelberg casually. "

"I may have expressed myself----"

"And did he mention us?"

Neeld rose to his feet and took a turn up and down the room. 

"In my discretion I left the passage out. I can answer no questionsabout it. Please don't press me, Madame Zabriska. "

"I will know, " she said excitedly, almost angrily. 

Neeld came to a stand opposite her, deep perplexity expressing itself inhis look and manner. 

"Did he talk about us? Did he talk about Lady Tristram?"

"I am speaking to you, and to you only, Madame Zabriska?"

"Yes, yes--to me only. "

"He did mention you, and he did speak of Lady Tristram. "

"That's why you weren't surprised when I told you he called me the Imp!"She smiled a moment, and Neeld smiled too. But in an instant she waseager again. "And about Lady Tristram?"

"It was no use reprinting poor Lady Tristram's story. " He sat downagain, trying to look as though the subject were done with; but herubbed his hands together nervously and would not meet Mina's eyes. There was a long pause; Mina rose, took the Journal, put it in thecupboard and turned the key on it. She came back and stood over him. 

"You know?" she said. "It was in the Journal? I'm sure you know. "

"Know what?" Mr Neeld was fighting in the last ditch. 

"But I don't want to tell you unless you know! No, I'm sure you know!"

"And do you know?"

"Yes, I know. My mother told me. "

They understood one another now. Neeld made no further pretence. 

"You mean about Harry Tristram?" he asked, simply, but in a low voice. 

"Yes. At first I didn't know what it meant to him. But I know now. "

Neeld made no reply, and there was another moment of silence. Neeld worea restless, timid, uneasy air, in strong contrast to the resoluteintensity of Mina's manner; she seemed to have taken and to keep theupper hand of him. 

"And you know what it would mean to him?" she asked. 

Neeld nodded; of course he knew that. 

"What are you going to do?"

He raised his hands and let them drop again in a confession that he didnot know. 

"I knew, and I told, " she said. He started a little. "Yes, I told, because I was spiteful. I was the Imp! I've never been happy since Itold. Mr Tristram knows I've told, though he denies there's anything init. But he knows I've told. And still he's been kind to me. " Her voiceshook. 

"You told? Whom did you tell?"

"Never mind--or guess, if you can. I shan't tell him any more. I shan'thelp him any more. I won't speak. I will not speak. I'm for Mr Tristram. Thick and thin, I'm for Mr Tristram now. " She came a step nearer to him. "The man I told may try; but I don't think he can do much withoutus--without me and without you. If we keep quiet, no, he can't do much. Why should we tell? Is it our business? You suppressed it in theJournal. Can't you suppress it now?"

"The Ivers?" he stammered. 

"The Ivers! What's it to the Ivers compared to what it is to him? It'llnever come out. If it did--Oh, but it won't! It's life and death to him. And isn't it right? Isn't it justice? He's her son. This thing's just ahorrible accident. Oh, if you'd heard him speak of Blent!" She paused amoment, rubbing her hand across her eyes. Then she threw herself backinto her chair, asking again, "What are you going to do?"

He sat silent, thinking hard. It was not his business. Right and justiceseemed, in some sense at least, on Harry's side. But the law is the law. And there were his friends the Ivers. In him there was no motive ofself-interest such as had swayed Major Duplay and made his action seemrather ugly even to himself. Neeld owed loyalty and friendship; that wasall. Was it loyal, was it friendly, to utter no word while friends weredeceived? With what face would he greet Iver if the thing did come outafterward? He debated with entire sincerity the point that Major Duplayhad invoked in defence of himself against his conscience. On the otherside was the strong sympathy which that story in the Journal had createdin him since first he read it, and realized its perverse little tragedy;and there was the thought of Lady Tristram dying down at Blent. 

The long silence was broken by neither of them. Neeld was weighing hisquestion; Mina had made her appeal and waited for an answer. The quietof the book-lined room (There were the yellowy-brown volumes from whichMina had acquired her lore!) was broken by a new voice. They bothstarted to hear it, and turned alert faces to the window whence it came. Harry Tristram, in flannels and a straw hat, stood looking in. 

"I've got an hour off, " he explained, "so I walked up to thank you forthe flowers. My mother liked them, and liked to have them from you. " Hesaw Neeld, and greeted him courteously. "I asked her if I should giveyou her love, and she said yes--with her eyes, you know. She speaksmostly that way now. Well, she always did a good deal, I expect. " Hissmile came on the last words. 

"She sent her love to me?"

"Yes. I told her what you did one evening, and she liked that too. "

"I hope Lady Tristram is--er--going on well?" asked Neeld. 

"She doesn't suffer, thank you. "

Mina invited him in; there was an appositeness in his coming whichappealed to her, and she watched Neeld with covert eagerness. 

Harry looked round the room, then vaulted over the sill. 

"My uncle's playing golf with Mr Iver, " remarked Mina. "Tea?"

"No; too sick-roomy. I'm for nothing but strong drink now--and I've hadsome. " He came to the middle of the room and stood between them, flinging his hat on the table where Mr Cholderton's Journal had solately lain. "My mother's an extraordinary woman, " he went on, evidentlyso full of his thought that he must speak it out; "she's dyingjoyfully. "

After an instant Mina asked, "Why?" Neeld was surprised at the baldnessof the question, but Harry took it as natural. 

"It's like going off guard--I mean, rather, off duty--to her, I think. "He made the correction thoughtfully and with no haste. "Life has alwaysseemed rather like an obligation to do things you don't want to--notthat she did them all--and now she's tired, she's glad to leave it tome. Only she wishes I was a bit better-looking, though she won't admitit. She couldn't stand a downright ugly man at Blent, you know. I've asort of notion"--he seemed to forget Neeld, and looked at Mina forsympathy--"that she thinks she'll be able to come and have a look atBlent and me in it, all the same. " His smile took a whimsical turn as hespoke of his mother's dying fancies. 

Mina glanced at Mr Neeld; was the picture visible to him that rosebefore her eyes--of the poor sprite coming eagerly, but turning sadlyaway when she saw a stranger enthroned at Blent, and knew not where tolook for her homeless, landless son? Mina was not certain that she couldsafely credit Neeld with such a flight of imagination; still he waslistening, and his eyes were very gentle behind his spectacles. 

"The parson came to see her yesterday. He's not what you'd call anunusual man, Madame Zabriska--and she is an unusual woman, you know. Itwas--yes, it was amusing, and there's an end of it. " He paused, andadded, by way of excuse, "Oh, I know her so well, you see. She wouldn'tbe left alone with him; she wanted another sinner there. "

Mina marked the change in him--the new expansiveness, the new appeal forsympathy. He had forgotten his suspicion and his watchfulness; she wasinclined to say that he had forgotten himself. On her death-bed AddieTristram had exerted her charm once more--and over her own son. Oncemore a man, whatever his own position, thought mainly of her--and thatman was her son. Did Neeld see this? To Neeld it came as the strongestreinforcement to the feelings which bade him hold his peace. It seemedan appeal to him, straight from the death-bed in the valley below. Harryfound the old gentleman's gaze fixed intently on him. 

"I beg your pardon for troubling you with all this, Mr Neeld, " he said, relapsing rather into his defensive attitude. "Madame Zabriska knows myways. "

"No, I don't think I know this new way of yours at all, " she objected. "But I like it, Mr Tristram. I feel all you do. I have seen her. " Sheturned to Neeld. "Oh, how I wish you had!" she cried. 

Her earnestness stirred a little curiosity in Harry. He glanced with hisold wariness at Neeld. But what could he see save a kindly precise oldgentleman, who was unimportant to him but seemed interested in what hesaid. He turned back to Mina, asking:

"A new way of mine?"

"Well, not quite. You were rather like it once. But generally you've gota veil before your face. Or perhaps you're really changed?"

He thought for a moment. "Things change a man. " And he added, "I'm onlytwenty-two. "

"Yes, I know, " she smiled, "though I constantly forget it all the same. "

"Well, twenty-three, come the twentieth of July, " said he. His eyes wereon hers, his characteristic smile on his lips. It was a challenge toher. 

"I shan't forget the date, " she answered, answering his look too. Hesighed lightly; he was assured that she was with him. 

The twentieth of July! The Editor of Mr Cholderton's Journal sat bylistening; he raised no voice in protest. 

"I must get back, " said Harry. "Walk with me to the dip of the hill. "

With a glance of apology to Neeld, she followed him and stepped out ofthe window; there were two steps at the side leading up to it. "I'll beback directly, " she cried over her shoulder, as she joined HarryTristram. They walked to the gate which marked the end of the terrace onwhich Merrion stood. 

"I'm so glad you came! You do believe in me now?" she asked. 

"Yes, and I'm not afraid. But do you know--it seems incredible tome--I'm not thinking of that now. I shall again directly, when it'sover. But now--well, Blent won't seem much without my mother. "

"She couldn't rest if you weren't there, " cried Mina, throwing back theimpression she had received, as her disposition made her. 

"I haven't changed about that, but it will wait. Three days they saynow--three days, or maybe four, and then--she goes. "

Together they stood, looking down. Mina's heart was very full. She waswith the Tristrams indeed now, thick and thin; their cause seemed hers, their house must stand. 

Harry turned to her suddenly. 

"Say nothing of this to the Major. Let him alone; that's best. We'll seeabout all that afterward. Good-by. "

"And--and the Ivers?" She could not restrain the question. 

A slight frown came on his brow; he seemed to have no relish for thesubject. 

"Oh, that'll wait too, " he said impatiently. He caught her by the arm ashe had done once before. "If all they said was true, if what you thinkwas true (he smiled at her as he spoke), I'd change with no man inEngland; remember that. If it comes to a fight and I'm beaten, rememberthat. " And he ran down the hill. 

Mina returned slowly to the library and found Neeld walking restlesslyto and fro. For the moment they did not speak. Mina sat down andfollowed the old gentleman's figure in its restless pacing. 

"You heard him about his mother?" she asked at last. 

He nodded, but did not reply. 

"You make all the difference, " she blurted out after another pause. 

Again he nodded, not ceasing his walk. For a minute or two longer Minaendured the suspense, though it seemed more than she could bear. Thenshe sprang up, ran to him, intercepted him, and caught hold of both hishands, arresting his progress with an eager, imperious grip. 

"Well?" she cried. "Well? What are you going to do?"

For a moment still he waited. Then he spoke deliberately. 

"I can't consider it my duty to do anything, Madame Zabriska. "

"Ah!" cried the Imp in shrill triumph, and she flung her arms round hisneck and kissed him. She did not mind his putting it on the score ofduty. 

IX

THE MAN IN POSSESSION

In these days Janie Iver would have been lonely but for the Major'sattentions. Her father had gone to London on business--showing, to MrNeeld's relief, no disposition to take the Journal with him to read onthe way--Neeld was absurdly nervous about the Journal now. Her motherwas engrossed in a notable scheme which Miss Swinkerton had started forthe benefit of the poor of Blentmouth. Bible-readings, a savings-bank, and cottage-gardens were so inextricably mingled in it that thebeneficiary, if she liked one, had to go in for them all. "Just myobject, " Miss Swinkerton would remark triumphantly as she set theflower-pots down on the Bibles, only to find that the bank-books had gotstored away with the seed. Clearly Mrs Iver, chief aide-de-camp, had noleisure. Harry was at Blent; no word and no sign came from him. BobBroadley never made advances. The field was clear for the Major. Janie, grateful for his attentions, yet felt vaguely that he was more amusingas one of two attentive cavaliers than when he was her only resource. Asense of flatness came over her sometimes. In fact the centre ofinterest had shifted from her; she no longer held the stage; it wasoccupied now, for the few days she had still to live, by Lady Tristram. Moreover, Duplay was puzzling. Although not a girl who erected everyattention or every indication of liking into an obligation to proposematrimony, Janie knew that after a certain point things of this kindwere supposed to go either forward or backward, not to remain _in statuquo_. If her own bearing toward Bob contradicted this generalrule--well, that was an exceptional case. In Duplay's instance she couldsee nothing exceptional. She herself was not eager for a finalissue--indeed that would probably be brought about in another way--but, knowing nothing of his diplomatic reasons for delay, she thought heought to be. It is not very flattering when a gentleman takes too longover considering such a matter; a touch of impetuosity is more becoming. She would have preferred that he should need to be put off, and failedto understand why (if it may be so expressed) he put himself off fromday to day. 

But Duplay's reasons were, in fact, overwhelming. Lady Tristram livedstill, and he had the grace to count that as the strongest motive forholding his hand. Harry's campaign was for the moment at a standstill;Duplay had no doubt he would resume it as soon as his mother was buried;on its apparent progress the Major's action would depend. It was justpossible that he could defeat his enemy without his secret weapon; inthat event he pictured himself writing a letter to Harry, halfsorrowful, half magnanimous, in which he would leave that young man tosettle matters with his conscience, and, for his own part, wash hishands of the whole affair. But his conviction was that there would comea critical moment at which he could go to Iver, not (as he must now)without any compelling reason, but in the guise of a friend who actsreluctantly yet under an imperious call. What would happen if he did?Victory, he used to repeat to himself. But often his heart sank. Minawas with him no more; he never thought of Neeld as a possible ally;Harry's position was strong. Among the reasons for inactivity whichDuplay did not acknowledge to himself was the simple and common one thathe was in his heart afraid to act. He meant to act, but he shrank fromit and postponed the hour as long as he could. Defeat would be veryignominious; and he could not deny that defeat was possible merely fromwant of means to carry on the war. When the Major recognized this facthe was filled with a sombre indignation at the inequalities of wealth, and at the ways of a world wherein not even Truth shall triumph unlessshe commands a big credit at the bank. 

And Mina annoyed him intensely, assuming an aggrieved air, and hintingsevere moral condemnation in every glance of her eye. She behaved forall the world as though the Major had begun the whole thing, andentirely ignored her own responsibility. She conveyed the view that hewas the unscrupulous assailant, she the devoted defender, of theTristrams. Such a _volte-face_ as this was not only palpably unjust, itwas altogether too nimble a bit of gymnastics for Duplay to appreciate. The general unreasonableness of woman was his only refuge; but the dogmacould not bring understanding, much less consolation, with it. 

"What did you tell me for, then?" he cried at last. "You were hot on itthen. Now you say you won't help me, you'll have nothing more to do withit!"

"I only told it you as--as a remarkable circumstance, " the Imp alleged, with a wanton disregard for truth. 

"Nonsense, Mina. You were delighted to have a weapon against youngTristram then. "

"I can't help it if you insist on misunderstanding me, uncle; and, anyhow, I suppose I can change my mind if I like, can't I?"

"No, " he declared, "it's not fair to me. I can't make you out at all. You're not in love with Harry Tristram, are you?"

"With that boy?" asked Mina, attempting to be superb. 

"That's women's old nonsense, " observed Duplay, twirling his mustacheknowingly. "They often fall in love with young men and always try topass it off by calling them boys. "

"Of course I haven't your experience, uncle, " she rejoined, passing intothe sarcastic vein. 

"And if you are, " he went on, reverting to the special case, "I don'tsee why you make his path smooth to Janie Iver. "

"Some people are capable of self-sacrifice in their love. "

"Yes, but I shouldn't think you'd be one of them, " said the Major ratherrudely. He looked at her curiously. Her interest in Harry wasunmistakable, her championship of him had become thorough-going, fierce, and (to the Major's mind) utterly unscrupulous. Was he faced with asituation so startlingly changed? Did his niece object to turning Harryoff his throne because she harbored a hope of sharing it with him? Ifthat were so, and if the hope had any chance of becoming a reality, Duplay would have to reconsider his game. But what chance of successcould there be? She would (he put it bluntly in his thoughts) only bemaking a fool of herself. 

The Imp screwed up her little lean face into a grimace which servedeffectually to cover any sign of her real feelings. She neither admittednor denied the charge levied against her. She was bewildering her uncle, and she found, as usual, a genuine pleasure in the pursuit. If she werealso bewildering herself a little with her constant thoughts of HarryTristram and her ardent championship of his cause, well, in the countrythere is such a thing as being too peaceful, and up to the present timethe confusion of feeling had been rather pleasant than painful. 

"I don't really know what I feel, " she remarked the next moment. "Butyou can read women, uncle, you've often said so, and I dare say youreally know more about what I feel than I do myself. " A grossness ofinnocence was her new assumption. "Now judging from what I do andlook--that's the way to judge, isn't it, not from what I say?--what doyou think my real inmost feelings are about Mr Tristram?"

If the Major had been asked what his real inmost feelings about hisniece were at the moment, he would have been at some difficulty toexpress them decorously. She was back at fifteen--a particularlyexasperating child of fifteen. Her great eyes, with their mock gravity, were fixed on his irritated face. He would have agreed absolutely withMr Cholderton's estimate of the evil in her, and of its proper remedy. 

Wherein Duplay was derided his niece made very plain to him; wherein hiswords had any effect was studiously concealed. Yet she repeated thewords when he had, with a marked failure of temper, gone his way andslammed the door behind him. "In love with Harry Tristram!" Mina foundthe idea at once explanatory and picturesque. Why otherwise was she hischampion? She paused (as they say) for a reply. How better could shedraw to herself a part and a share in the undoubtedly romantic situationin which she grouped the facts of the case? By being in love with Harryshe became part of the drama; and she complicated the drama mostdelightfully. Janie knew nothing--she knew everything. Janiehesitated--what if she did not hesitate? A big _rôle_ opened before hereyes. What if it were very unlikely that Harry would reciprocate herproposed feelings? The Imp hesitated between a natural vexation and anartistic pleasure. Such a failure on his part would wound the woman, butit would add pathos to the play. She became almost sure that she couldlove Harry; she remained uncertain whether he should return thecompliment. And, after all, to be Lady Tristram of Blent! That wasattractive. Or (in case Harry suffered defeat) to be Lady Tristram ofBlent in the sight of heaven (a polite and time-honored way ofdescribing an arrangement not recognized on earth, and quite adaptableto the present circumstances); that had a hardly less alluring, and atleast a rarer, flavor. The Imp looked down on Blent with an access ofinterest. Monsieur Zabriska had left her with unexhausted reserves offeeling. Moreover she could not be expected to help her uncle if shewere seriously attached to Harry. The moral of all this for the Majorwas that it is unwise to suggest courses of action unless you arewilling to see them carried out, or channels of emotion unless you areprepared to find them filled. 

"Some people are capable of self-sacrifice in their love. " That wouldmean being his champion still, and letting him marry Janie Iver. She didnot object much to her own part, but she cavilled suddenly atJanie's--or at Harry's relation to Janie. Would it be better to shareadversity with him? Perhaps. But, after all, she did not fancy him inadversity. The third course recommended itself--victory for him, but notJanie. Who then?

At this point Mina became sensible of no more than the vaguest visions, not at all convincing even to herself. By a sad deficiency ofimagination, she could give no definiteness to a picture of HarryTristram making love. He had never, to her mind, looked like it withJanie Iver, even while he had purported to be doing it. He never lookedlike it at all, not even as though he could do it. Stay, though! Thatnew way of his, which she had marked when he came up the hill to thankher for the flowers, was an exception. But the new way had been for hismother's sake. Now a man cannot be in love with his mother. The questiongrew more puzzling, more annoying, more engrossing still. 

While full of these problems, refusing indeed to be anything else, Minawas surprised by a visit from Miss Swinkerton, who sought a subscriptionfor the scheme of which an inadequate account has already been given. Miss Swinkerton (for some reason she was generally known as Miss S. , avulgar style of description possessing sometimes an inexplicableappropriateness) was fifty-five, tall and bony, the daughter of aRear-Admiral, the sister of an Archdeacon. She lived for good works andby gossip. Mina's sovereign (foreigners will not grasp the cheapadditional handsomeness of a guinea) duly disbursed, conversation becamegeneral--that is to say, they talked about their neighbors. 

"A hard young man, " said Miss S. (Why be more genteel than her friends?)"And if Janie Iver thinks he's in love with her----"

"What do you mean by being in love, Miss Swinkerton?"

Miss Swinkerton had always been rather surprised, not to say hurt, whenthe Catechism asked for an explanation of what she meant by the Lord'sPrayer. This question of Mina's was still more uncalled for. 

"You know enough English, my dear----"

"It's not a question of English, " interrupted Mina, "but of humannature, Miss Swinkerton. "

"When I was a girl there were no such questions. "

"What about Lady Tristram, then?"

There was flattery in this, ten or fifteen years of flattery. Miss S. Was unmoved. 

"I am happy to say that Lady Tristram never called at Seaview. " MissS. 's house was called Seaview--Sea-Backview would have been a moreprecise description. 

"I call him in love with Janie Iver. He must want to marry her or----"

"They do say that money isn't very plentiful at Blent. And there'll bethe Death Duties, you know. "

"What are they?" asked Mina. 

"Like stamps, " explained Miss S. , vaguely. "For my part, I think it'slucky he is what he is. There's been enough of falling in love in theTristram family. If you ask me who is in love with her, of course it'spoor young Broadley. Well, you know that, as you're always driving up toMingham with her. "

"We've only been three or four times, Miss Swinkerton. "

"Six, I was told, " observed Miss S. , with an air of preferring accuracy. "Oh, I should be very pleased to see him married to Janie--Mr Tristram, I mean, of course--but she mustn't expect too much, my dear. Where'syour uncle?"

"At Fairholme, I expect, " answered the Imp demurely. As a matter of factthe Major had gone to Exeter on a business errand. 

"Fairholme?" Miss S. 's air was significant, Mina's falsehood rewarded. Mina threw out a smile; her visitor's pursed lips responded to it. 

"He goes there a lot, " pursued Mina, "to play golf with Mr Iver. "

"So I've heard. " Her tone put the report in its proper place. To playgolf indeed!

"I think Janie's rather fond of Mr Tristram, anyhow. " This was simply afeeler on Mina's part. 

"Well, my dear, the position! Blent's been under a cloud--though peopledon't seem to mind that much nowadays, to be sure. But the new LadyTristram! They've always been the heads of the neighborhood. She'll havehim, no doubt, but as for being in love with him--well, could you, Madame Zabriska?"

"Yes, " said the Imp, without the least hesitation. "I think he's mostattractive--mysterious, you know. I'm quite taken with him. "

"He always looks at me as if I wanted to pick his pocket. "

"Well, you generally do--for your charities. " The laugh was confined toMina herself. "But I know the manner you mean. "

"Poor young man! I'm told he's very sensitive about his mother. That'sit perhaps. " The guess was at all events as near as gossip generallygets to truth. "It would make him a very uncomfortable sort of husbandthough, even if one didn't mind having that kind of story in thefamily. "

With a flash of surprise--really she had not been thinking aboutherself, in spite of her little attempts to mystify Miss S. --Mina caughtthat lady indulging in a very intent scrutiny of her, which gave anobvious point to her last words and paved the way (as it appeared in amoment) for a direct approach to the principal object of Miss S. 'svisit. That this object did not come to the front till Miss S. Was onher feet to go was quite characteristic. 

"I'm really glad, my dear, " she observed, hanging her silk bag on herarm, "to have had this talk with you. They do say such things, and now Ishall be able to contradict them on the best authority. "

"What do they say?"

"Well, I never repeat things; still I think perhaps you've a right toknow. They do say that you're more interested in Harry Tristram than amere neighbor would be, and--well, really, I don't quite know how to putit. "

"Oh, I do!" cried Mina, delightedly hitting the mark. "That uncle and Iare working together, I suppose?"

"I don't listen to such gossip, but it comes to my ears, " Miss S. Admitted. 

"What diplomatists we are!" said the Imp. "I didn't know we were soclever. But why do I take Janie to Mingham?"

"They'd say that Bob Broadley's no real danger, and if it _should_disgust Harry Tristram----"

"I am clever! Dear Miss Swinkerton, I never thought of anything half sogood myself. I'll tell uncle about it directly. "

Miss S. Looked at her suspiciously. The innocence seemed very muchover-done. 

"I knew you'd laugh at it, " she observed. 

"I should do that even if it was true, " said Mina, thoroughly enjoyingherself. 

Miss S. Took her leave, quite undecided whether to announce on the bestauthority that the idea was true, or that it was quite unfounded. Onething only was certain; whatever she decided to say, she would say onthe best authority. If it turned out incorrect in the end, Miss S. Wouldtake credit for an impenetrable discretion and an unswerving loyalty tothe friends who had given her their confidence. 

Mina was left very unquiet. Miss S. Chimed in with the Major; theneighborhood too seemed in the same tune. She could laugh at theingenuities attributed to her, yet the notions which had given thembirth found, as she perceived more and more clearly, a warrant in herfeelings, if not in her conduct. Look at it how she would, she waswrapped up in Harry Tristram; she spent her days watching his fortunes, any wakeful hour of the night found her occupied in thinking of him. Wasshe a traitor to her friend Janie Iver? Was that treachery bringing herback, by a roundabout way, to a new alliance with her uncle? Did itinvolve treason to Harry himself? For certainly it was hard to go onhelping him toward a marriage with Janie Iver. 

"But I will all the same if he wants it, " she exclaimed, as she pacedabout on the terrace, glancing now and then down at Blent. And again shestood aghast at the thorough-going devotion which such an attitude asthat implied. "If only I could keep out of things!" she murmured. "But Inever can. "

Major Duplay drove up the hill in a Blentmouth station fly; he had metthe doctor on the road, and the news was that in all probability LadyTristram would not live out the night. The tidings gained addedsolemnity from Duplay's delivery of them, even though a larger share ofhis impressiveness was directed to the influence the event might have onhis fortunes than to the event itself. 

"Then we shall see. He'll assume the title, I suppose. That's no affairof mine. And then he'll go to Fairholme. That is. " He turned suddenly, almost threateningly, upon her. "I hope you've come to your senses, Mina, " said he. "You'll have to speak, you know. If I can't make you, Iver will. " He paused and laughed. "But you'll speak fast enough whenyou find yourself in the lawyer's office. "

Mina refused to be frightened by the threatened terrors of the law. 

"Who's going to take me to a lawyer's office?" she demanded. 

"Why, Iver will, of course. " He showed contemptuous surprise. "Oh, you've gone too far to think you can get out of it now. "

She studied him attentively for a moment or two. The result wasreassuring; his blustering manner hid, she believed, a sinking heart. 

"You can't frighten me, uncle. I've made up my mind what to do, and Ishall do it. "

She was not afraid of him now. She was wondering how she had come to bebullied into telling her secret at all, looking back with surprise tothat scene in the library when, with sullen obedience and childish fear, she had obeyed his command to speak. Why was it all different now? Whywas his attempt to take the same line with her not only a failure, but aridiculous effort? She knew the angry answer he would give. Could shegive any other answer herself? A new influence had come into her life. She had not ceased to be afraid, but she was afraid of somebody else. Adomination was over her still, but it was no longer his. Like someturbulent little city of old Greece, she had made her revolution: theend had been to saddle her with a new tyrant. There seemed no more usein denying it; the Major said it, Miss S. Said it, the neighborhood wasall agreed. What she herself was most conscious of, and most oppressedby, was a sense of audacity. How dared she devote herself to HarryTristram? He had asked nothing of her. No, but he had imposed somethingon her. She had volunteered for his service. It was indeed "women'snonsense" when she spoke of him as "That Boy. "

Duplay turned away from her, disheartened and disgusted. Things lookedwell for the enemy. He was alone with his unsupported story of aconversation which Mina would not repeat, with his empty purse whichcould supply no means of proving what he said. He ran the risk of losingwhat chance he had of Janie Iver's favor, and he was in sore peril ofcoming off second-best again in his wrestling-bout with Harry Tristram. The Man in Possession was strong. The perils that had seemed sothreatening were passing away. Mina was devoted; Neeld would be silent. Who would there be who could effectively contest his claim, or oust himfrom his place? Thus secure, he would hardly need the check always byhim. Yet he was a cautious wary young man. There is little doubt that hewould still like to have the check by him, and that he would take theonly means of getting it. 

Now that the moment had come for which all his life had been apreparation, Harry Tristram had little reason to be afraid. 

X

BEHOLD THE HEIR!

Addie Tristram died with all her old uncommonness. Death was to her anend more fully than it is to most; had she been herself responsible forit, she could hardly have thought less of any possible consequences. Andit was to her such a beginning as it can seldom seem. She had beenliving in anticipation of dying, but in a sense utterly remote from thatcontemplation of their latter end which is enjoined on the pious. Sothat, together with an acquiescence so complete as almost to justify herson in calling it joyful, there was an expectation, nearly anexcitement--save that the tired body failed to second the mind. Shemight have shown remorse, both for her own acts and for the position inwhich she was leaving Harry; she fell in with the view he had alwaysmaintained with her, that all these things had come about somehow, hadproduced a certain state of affairs, and must be made to seem as if theyhad done nothing of the sort. During the last day or two she wasdelirious at intervals; as a precaution Harry was with her then, insteadof the nurse. The measure was superfluous; there was nothing on LadyTristram's mind, and when she spoke unconsciously, she spoke of trifles. The few final hours found her conscious and intelligent, although veryweak. Just at the end a curious idea got hold of her. She was a littledistressed that the Gainsboroughs were not there; she whispered herfeeling to Harry apologetically, well remembering his objection to thatbranch of the family, and his disinclination to have them or any of themat Blent. "Cecily ought to be here, " she murmured. Harry started alittle; he was not accustomed in his own mind to concede Cecily anyrights. His mother's fear of offending him by the suggestion was veryobvious. "She'd come after you, you see, if----" she said once or twice. There did not pass between them a word of acknowledgment that Cecilyought to come before him. Yet he was left wondering whether that idea, so scorned before, had not won its way to her with some suddenstrength--as though an instinct for the true heir made itself felt inspite of all her resolution and all her prejudices, and forced her to dosomething toward recognizing the claims which they were both determinedto thwart. 

The barest hint of this kind would have raised Harry's suspicion andanger a few weeks before; the new mood which Mina Zabriska had marked inhim made him take it quietly now, and even affectionately. For thisAddie Tristram was grateful; she had always the rare grace of seemingsurprised at her own power over men. It was no less in keeping with hercharacter and her life that the feeling she suffered under, andmanifested, was very easily appeased. Harry promised to ask theGainsboroughs to her funeral. Addie Tristram's conscientious scrupleswere entirely laid to rest; with a sigh of peace she settled herself todie. It was the feudal feeling, Harry decided, which insisted that thefamily must not be ignored; it did not deny their humble position, orthe gulf that separated them from the succession. Yet he was vaguelyvexed, even while he agreed to what she wanted. 

So she passed away in the full tide of the darkness of night. The doctorhad left her some hours before, the nurse had been sent to bed, forthere was nothing that could be done. Harry was alone with her; hekissed her when she was dead, and stood many minutes by her, lookingfrom her to the picture of her that hung on the wall. A strangeloneliness was on him, a loneliness which there seemed nobody to solace. He had said that Blent would not be much without his mother. That wasnot quite right; it was much, but different. She had carried away withher the atmosphere of the place, the essence of the life that he hadlived there with her. Who would make that the same to him again?Suddenly he recollected that in four days he was to ask Janie Iver forher answer. Say a week now, for the funeral would enforce or excuse somuch postponement. Janie Iver would not give him back the life or theatmosphere. A description of how he felt, had it been related to him ayear ago, would have appeared an absurdity. Yet these crowdingunexpected thoughts made not a hair's breadth of difference in what hepurposed. It was only that he became aware of an irreparable change ofscene; there was to be no change in his action. He was Tristram of Blentnow--that he must and would remain. But it was not the same Blent, anddid not seem as though it could be again. So much of the poetry had goneout of it with Addie Tristram. 

After he had left her room, he walked through the house, carrying ashaded candle in his hand along the dark corridors of shining oak. Hebent his steps toward the long gallery which filled all the upper floorof the left wing. Here were the Valhalla and the treasure-house of theTristrams, the pictures of ancestors, the cases of precious things whichthe ancestors had amassed. At the end of this gallery Addie Tristram hadused to sit when she was well, in a large high-backed arm-chair by thebig window that commanded the gardens and the river. He flung thewindow open and stood looking out. The wind swished in the trees andthe Blent washed along leisurely. A beautiful stillness was about him. It was as though she were by his side, her fair head resting against theold brocade cover of the arm-chair, her eyes wandering in delightedemployment round the room she had loved so well. Who should sit therenext? As he looked now at the room, now out into the night, his eyesfilled suddenly with tears; the love of the place came back to him, hispride in it lived again, he would keep it not only because it was hisbut because it had been hers before him. His blood spoke strong in him. Suddenly he smiled. It was at the thought that all this belonged in lawto Miss Cecily Gainsborough--the house, the gallery, the pictures, thetreasures, the very chair where Addie Tristram had used to sit. Everystick and stone about the place was Cecily Gainsborough's, aye, and thebed of the Blent from shore to shore. He had nothing at all--accordingto law. 

Well, the law must have some honor, some recognition, at all events. TheGainsboroughs should, as he had promised, be asked to the funeral. Theyshould be invited with all honor and most formally, in the name ofTristram of Blent--which, by the by was, according to law, also MissCecily Gainsborough's. Harry had no name according to law; no more thanhe had houses or pictures or treasures, any stick or stone, or thesmallest heritage in the bed of the Blent. He had been son to themistress of it all; she was gone and he was nobody--according to law. Itwas, after all, a reasonable concession that his mother had urged onhim; the Gainsboroughs ought to be asked to the funeral. The last of hisvexation on this score died away into a sense of grim amusement at AddieTristram's wish and his own appreciation of it. He had no sense ofdanger; Tristram had succeeded to Tristram; all was well. 

Little inclined to sleep, he went down into the garden presently, lithis cigar, and strolled on to the bridge. The night had grown clearerand some stars showed in the sky; it was nearly one o'clock. He hadstood where he was only a few moments when to his surprise he heard thesound of a horse's hoofs on the road from Blentmouth. Thinking thedoctor, who often did his rounds in the saddle, might have returned, hecrossed the bridge, opened the gate, and stood on the high road. Therider came up in a few minutes and drew rein at the sight of his figure, but, as Harry did not move, made as though he would ride on again withno more than the customary country salute of "Good-night. "

"Who is it?" asked Harry, peering through the darkness. 

"Me--Bob Broadley, " was the answer. 

"You're late. "

"I've been at the Club at Blentmouth. The Cricket Club's Annual Dinner, you know. "

"Ah, I forgot. "

Bob, come to a standstill, was taking the opportunity of lighting hispipe. This done, he looked up at the house and back to Harry rathertimidly. 

"Lady Tristram----?" he began. 

"My mother has been dead something above an hour, " said Harry. 

After a moment Bob dismounted and threw his reins over the gatepost. 

"I'm sorry, Tristram, " he said, holding out his hand. "Lady Tristram wasalways very kind to me. Indeed she was that to everybody. " He paused amoment and then went on slowly. "It must seem strange to you. Why, Iremember when my father died I felt--besides the sorrow, you know--sortof lost at coming into my bit of land at Mingham. But you----" Harrycould see his head turn as he looked over the demesne of Blent andstruggled to give some expression to the thoughts which his companion'sposition suggested. The circumstances of this meeting made for sincerityand openness; they were always Bob's characteristics. Harry too was insuch a mood that he liked Bob to stay and talk a little. 

They fell into talk with more ease and naturalness than they hadrecently achieved together, getting back to the friendliness of boyhood, although Bob still spoke as to one greater than himself and infused alittle deference into his manner. But they came to nothing intimate tillBob had declared that he must be on his way and was about to mount hishorse. 

"As soon as I begin to have people here, I hope you'll come often, " saidHarry, cordially. "Naturally we shall be a little more lively than we'vebeen able to be of late, and I shall hope to see all my friends. "

He did not instantly understand the hesitation in Bob's manner as heanswered, "You're very kind. I--I shall like to come. "

"Blent must do its duty, " Harry pursued. 

Bob turned back to him, leaving his horse again. "Yes, I'll come. I hopeI know how to take a licking, Tristram. " He held out his hand. 

"A licking?" Both the word and the gesture seemed to surprise HarryTristram. 

"Oh, you know what I mean. You're engaged to her, aren't you? Or as goodas anyhow? I don't want to ask questions----"

"Not even as good as, yet, " answered Harry slowly. 

"Of course you know what I feel. Everybody knows that, though I've nevertalked about it--even to her. "

"Why not to her? Isn't that rather usual in such cases?" Harry wassmiling now. 

"It would only worry her. What chance should I have?"

"Well, I don't agree with being too humble. "

"Oh, I don't know that I'm humble. Perhaps I think myself as good a manas you. But"--he laughed a little--"I'm Broadley of Mingham, notTristram of Blent. "

"I see. That's it? And our friend the Major?"

"I shouldn't so much mind having a turn-up with the Major. "

"But Tristram of Blent is--is too much?"

"It's not your fault, you can't help it, " smiled Bob. "You're born to itand----" He ended with a shrug. 

"You're very fond of her?" Harry asked, frowning a little. 

"I've been in love with her all my life--ever since they came toSeaview. Fairholme wasn't dreamed of then. "

He spoke of Fairholme with a touch of bitterness which he hastened tocorrect by adding--"Of course I'm glad of their good luck. "

"You mean, if it were Seaview still and not Fairholme----?"

"No, I don't. I've no business to think anything of the sort, and Idon't think it, " Bob interposed quickly. "You asked me a question and Ianswered it. I'm not in a position to know anything about you, and I'mnot going to say anything. "

"A good many reasons enter into a marriage sometimes, " remarked Harry. 

"Yes, with people like you. I know that. "

His renewed reference to Harry's position brought another frown toHarry's face, but it was the frown of thoughtfulness, not of anger. 

"I can't quarrel with the way of the world, and I'm sure if it does comeoff you'll be good to her. "

"You think I don't care about her--about her herself?"

"I don't know, I tell you. I don't want to know. I suppose you likeher. "

"Yes, I like her. " He took the word from Bob and made no attempt toalter or to amplify it. 

Bob was mounting now; the hour was late for him to be abroad and workwaited him in the morning. 

"Good-night, Tristram, " he said, as he settled in his saddle. 

"Good-night. And, Bob, if by any chance it doesn't come off with me, youhave that turn-up with the Major!"

"Well, I don't like the idea of a foreign chap coming down and---- But, mind you, Duplay's a very superior fellow. He knows the deuce of a lot. "

"Thinks he does, anyhow, " said Harry, smiling again. "Good-night, oldfellow, " he called after Bob in a very friendly voice as horse and riderdisappeared up the road. 

"I must go to bed, I suppose, " he muttered as he returned to the bridgeand stood leaning on the parapet. He yawned, not in weariness but in areaction from the excitement of the last few days. His emotional moodhad passed for the time at all events; it was succeeded by an apathythat was dull without being restful. And in its general effect hisinterview with Bob was vaguely vexatious in spite of its cordialcharacter. It left with him a notion which he rejected but could notquite get rid of--the notion that he was taking, or (if all were known)would be thought to be taking, an unfair advantage. Bob had said he wasborn to it and that he could not help it. If that had indeed been so inthe fullest possible sense, would he have had the notion that irritatedhim now? Yes, he told himself; but the answer did not quite convince. Still the annoyance was no more than a restless suggestion of somethingnot quite satisfactory in his position, and worth mentioning only as thefirst such feeling he had ever had. It did not trouble him seriously. Hesmoked another cigar on the bridge and then went into the house and tobed. As he undressed it occurred to him (and the idea gave him bothpleasure and amusement) that he had made a sort of alliance with Bobagainst Duplay, although it could come into operation only undercircumstances which were very unlikely to happen. 

The blinds drawn at Blent next morning told Mina what had happened, andthe hour of eleven found her at a Committee Meeting at MissSwinkerton's, which she certainly would not have attended otherwise. Asit was, she wanted to talk and to hear, and the gathering afforded achance. Mrs Iver was there, and Mrs Trumbler the vicar's wife, a meekwoman, rather ousted from her proper position by the energy of MissSwinkerton; she was to manage the Bible-reading department, which wasnot nearly so responsible a task as conducting the savings-bank, and didnot involve anything like the same amount of supervision of otherpeople's affairs. Mrs Trumbler felt, however, that on matters of moralsshe had a claim to speak _jure mariti_. 

"It is so sad!" she murmured. "And Mr Trumbler found he could do solittle! He came home quite distressed. "

"I'm told she wasn't the least sensible of her position, " observed MissS. , with what looked rather like satisfaction. 

"Didn't she know she was dying?" asked Mina, who had established herfooting by a hypocritical show of interest in the cottage-gardens. 

"Oh, yes, she knew she was dying, my dear, " said Miss S. What poor LadyTristram might have known, but apparently had not, was left to anobvious inference. 

"She was very kind, " remarked Mrs Iver. "Not exactly actively, you know, but if you happened to come across her. " She rose as she spoke and badeMiss S. Farewell. That lady did not try to detain her, and the momentthe door had closed behind her remarked:

"Of course Mrs Iver feels in a delicate position and can't say anythingabout Lady Tristram; but from what I hear she never realized thepeculiarity of her position. No (this to Mrs Trumbler), I mean in theneighborhood, Mrs Trumbler. And the young man is just the same. But Ishould have liked to hear that Mr Trumbler thought it came home to herat the last. "

Mr Trumbler's wife shook her head gently. 

"Well, now we shall see, I suppose, " Miss S. Pursued. "The engagement isto be made public directly after the funeral. "

Mina almost started at this authoritative announcement. 

"And I suppose they'll be married as soon as they decently can. I'm gladfor Janie Iver's sake--not that I like him, the little I've seen ofhim. "

"We never see him, " said Mrs Trumbler. 

"Not at church, anyhow, " added Miss S. Incisively. "Perhaps he'llremember what's due to his position now. "

"Are you sure they're engaged?" asked Mina. 

Miss S. Looked at her with a smile. "Certain, my dear. "

"How?" asked Mina. Mrs Trumbler stared at her in surprised rebuke. 

"When I make a mistake, it will be time to ask questions, " observed MissS. With dignity. "For the present you may take what I say. I can wait tobe proved right, Madame Zabriska. "

"I've no doubt you're right; only I thought Janie would have told me, "said Mina; she had no wish to quarrel with Miss S. 

"Janie Iver's very secretive, my dear. She always was. I used to talk toMrs Iver about it when she was a little girl. And in your case----" MissS. 's smile could only refer to the circumstance that Mina was MajorDuplay's niece; the Major's manœuvres had not escaped Miss S. 's eye. "Ofcourse the funeral will be very quiet, " Miss S. Continued. "That avoidsso many difficulties. The people who would come and the people whowouldn't--and all that, you know. "

"There are always so many questions about funerals, " sighed MrsTrumbler. 

"I hate funerals, " said Mina. "I'm going to be cremated. "

"That may be very well abroad, my dear, " said Miss S. Tolerantly, "butyou couldn't here. The question is, will Janie Iver go--and if she does, where will she walk?"

"Oh, I should hardly think she'd go, if it's not announced, you know, "said Mrs Trumbler. 

"It's sometimes done, and I'm told she would walk just behind thefamily. "

Mina left the two ladies debating this point of etiquette, Miss S. Showing some deference to Mrs Trumbler's experience in this particulardepartment, but professing to be fortified in her own view by theopinion of an undertaker with a wide connection. She reflected, as shegot into her pony carriage, that it is impossible even to die withoutaffording a good deal of pleasure to other people--surely a fortunatefeature of the world!

On her way home she stopped to leave cards at Blent, and was notsurprised when Harry Tristram came out of his study, having seen herthrough the window, and greeted her. 

"Send your trap home and walk up the hill with me, " he suggested, andshe fell in with his wish very readily. They crossed the foot-bridgetogether. 

"I've just been writing to ask my relations to the funeral, " he said. "At my mother's wish, not mine. Only two of them--and I never saw themin my life. "

"I shouldn't think you'd cultivate your relations much. "

"No. But Cecily Gainsborough ought to come, I suppose. She's my heir. "

Mina turned to him with a gesture of interest or surprise. 

"Your heir?" she said. "You mean----?"

"I mean that if I died without having any children, she'd succeed me. She'd be Lady Tristram in her own right, as my mother was. " He facedround and looked at Blent. "She's never been to the place or seen ityet, " he added. 

"How intensely interested she'll be!"

"I don't see why she should, " said Harry rather crossly. "It's a greatbore having her here at all, and if I'm barely civil to her that's all Ishall manage. They won't stay more than a few days, I suppose. " After asecond he went on: "Her mother wouldn't know my mother, though after herdeath the father wanted to be reconciled. "

"Is that why you dislike them so?"

"How do you know I dislike them?" he asked, seeming surprised. 

"It's pretty evident, isn't it? And it would be a good reason fordisliking the mother anyhow. "

"But not the daughter?"

"No, and you seem to dislike the daughter too--which isn't fair. "

"Oh, I take the family in the lump. And I don't know that what we'vebeen talking of has anything to do with it. "

He did not seem inclined to talk more about the Gainsboroughs, thoughhis frown told her that something distasteful was still in his thoughts. What he had said was enough to rouse in her a great interest andcuriosity about this girl who was his heir. Questions and rightsattracted her mind very little till they came to mean people; then shewas keen on the track of the human side of the matter. The girl whom hechose to call his heir was really the owner of Blent!

"Are you going to ask us to the funeral?" she said. 

"I'm not going to ask anybody. The churchyard is free; they can come ifthey like. "

"I shall come. Shall you dislike my coming?"

"Oh, no. " He was undisguisedly indifferent and almost bored. 

"And then I shall see Cecily Gainsborough. "

"Have a good look at her. You'll not have another chance--at Blentanyhow. She'll never come here again. "

She looked at him in wonder, in a sort of fear. 

"How hard you are sometimes, " she said. "The poor girl's done nothing toyou. "

He shook his head impatiently and came to a stand on the road. 

"You're going back? Good-by, Lord Tristram. "

"I'm not called that till after the funeral, " he told her, looking assuspicious as he had in the earliest days of their acquaintance. 

"And will you let me go on living at Merrion--or coming every summeranyhow?"

"Do you think of coming again?"

"I want to, " she answered with some nervousness in her manner. 

"And Major Duplay?" He smiled slightly. 

"I don't know whether he would want. Should you object?"

"Oh, no, " said Harry, again with the weary indifference that seemed tohave fastened on him now. 

"I've been gossiping, " she said, "with Mrs Trumbler and MissSwinkerton. "

"Good Lord!"

"Miss Swinkerton says your engagement to Janie will be announceddirectly after the funeral. "

"And Major Duplay says that directly it's announced----!"

"You don't mean to tell me anything about it?"

"Really, I don't see why I should. Well, if you like--I want to marryher. "

Mina had really known this well for a long while, yet she did not liketo hear it. She had been spinning fancies about the man; what he had inhis mind for himself was very prosaic. At least it seemed so toher--though she would have appreciated the dramatic side of it, had hetold her of his idea of living with the big check by him. 

"I can't help thinking that somehow you'll do something more excitingthan that. "

"She won't marry me?" He was not looking at her, and he spoke ratherabsently. 

"I don't suppose she'll refuse you, but--no, I've just a feeling. Ican't explain. "

"A feeling? What feeling?" He was irritable, but his attention wascaught again. 

"That something more's waiting for you. "

"That it's my business to go on affording you amusement perhaps?"

Mina glanced at him; he was smiling; he had become good-tempered. 

"Oh, I don't expect you to do it for that reason, but if you do it----"

"Do what?" he asked, laughing outright. 

"I don't know. But if you do, I shall be there to see--looking so hardat you, Mr Tristram. " She paused, and then added, "I should like CecilyGainsborough to come into it too. "

"Confound Cecily Gainsborough! Good-by, " said Harry. 

He left with her two main impressions; the first was that he had not theleast love for the girl whom he meant to marry; the second that hehardly cared to deny to her that he hated Cecily Gainsborough becauseshe was the owner of Blent. 

"All the same, " she thought, "I suppose he'll marry Janie, and I'mcertain he'll keep Blent. " Yet he seemed to take no pleasure in hisprospects and just at this moment not much in his possessions. Mina waspuzzled, but did not go so far wrong as to conceive himconscience-stricken. She concluded that she must wait for light. 

XI

A PHANTOM BY THE POOL

In a quite little street running between the Fulham and the King's Road, in a row of small houses not yet improved out of existence, there wasone house smallest of all, with the smallest front, the smallest back, and the smallest garden. The whole thing was almost impossibly small, apeculiarity properly reflected in the rent which Mr Gainsborough paid tothe firm of Sloyd, Sloyd, and Gurney for the fag-end of a long lease. Hedid some professional work for Sloyds from time to time, and that memberof the firm who had let Merrion Lodge to Mina Zabriska was on friendlyterms with him; so that perhaps the rent was a little lower still thanit would have been otherwise; even trifling reductions counted asimportant things in the Gainsborough Budget. Being thus small, the housewas naturally full; the three people who lived there were themselvesenough to account for that. But it was also unnaturally full by reasonof Mr Gainsborough's habit of acquiring old furniture of no value, andnew bric-à-brac whose worth could be expressed only by minus signs. These things flooded floors and walls, and overflowed on to the strip ofgravel behind. From time to time many of them disappeared; there wereperiodical revolts on Cecily's part, resulting in clearances; the gapswere soon made good by a fresh influx of the absolutely undesirable. When Sloyd came he looked round with a professional despair that therewas not a thing in the place which would fetch a sovereign! Such is theend of seeking beauty on an empty purse; some find a pathos in it, butit is more generally regarded as a folly in the seeker, a wrong to hisdependents, and a nuisance to his friends. 

In no other way could Gainsborough--Melton John Gainsborough, Architect--be called a nuisance, unless by Harry Tristram's capriciouspleasure. For he was very unobtrusive, small like his house, lean likehis purse, shabby as his furniture, humbler than his bric-à-brac. Heasked very little of the world; it gave him half, and he did notcomplain. He was never proud of anything, but he was gratified by hishonorable descent and by his alliance with the Tristrams. The familyinstinct was very strong in him. Among the rubbish he bought somebodyelse's pedigree was often to be found. His wife's hung framed on thewall (ending with "Adelaide Louisa Aimée" in large letters for onebranch, and "Cecily" in small for the other); his own was the constantsubject of unprofitable searchings in county histories--one aspect ofhis remarkable genius for the unremunerative in all its respectableforms. He worked very hard and gave the impression of doing nothing--andthe impression perhaps possessed the higher truth. Anyhow, while he andhis had (thanks to a very small property which came with the late MrsGainsborough) always just enough to eat, they had always just not enoughof anything else; short commons were the rule. 

And now they were going to Blent. Sloyd, calling on a matter of businessand pleasantly excusing his intrusion by the payment of some fees, hadheard about it from Gainsborough. "This'll just take us to Blent!" thelittle gentleman had observed with satisfaction as he waved the slip ofpaper. Sloyd knew Blent and could take an interest; he described it, raising his voice so that it travelled beyond the room and reached thehammock in the garden where Cecily lay. She liked a hammock, and herfather could not stand china figures and vases on it, so that it securedher where to lay her head. Gainsborough was very fussy over the news; adeeper but quieter excitement glowed in Cecily's eyes as, listening toSloyd, she feigned to pay no heed. She had designs on the check. Beautyunadorned may mean several things; but moralists cannot be right intwisting the commendation of it into a eulogium on thread-bare frocks. She must have a funeral frock. 

Sloyd came to the door which opened on the garden, and greeted her. Hewas as smart as usual, his tie a new creation, his hat mirroring thesun. Cecily was shabby from necessity and somewhat touzled from lollingin the hammock. She looked up at him, smiling in a lazy amusement. 

"Do you ever wear the same hat twice?" she asked. 

"Must have a good hat in my profession, Miss Gainsborough. You neverknow where you'll be sent for. The Duchess of This, or Lady That, losesher money at cards--or the Earl drops a bit at Newmarket--must let thehouse for the season--sends off for me--mustn't catch me in an old hat!"

"Yes, I see!"

"Besides, you may say what you like, but a gentleman ought to wear agood hat. It stamps him, Miss Gainsborough. "

"Yours positively illuminates you. I could find the way by you on thedarkest night. "

"With just a leetle touch of oil----" he admitted cautiously, not quitesure how far she was serious in the admiration her eyes seemed toexpress. "What have you been doing with yourself?" he asked, breakingoff after his sufficient confession. 

"I've been drawing up advertisements of my own accomplishments. " She satup suddenly. "Oh, why didn't I ask you to help me? You'd have made mesound eligible and desirable, and handsome and spacious, and all therest of it. And I found nothing at all to say!"

"What are you advertising for?"

"Somebody who knows less French than I do. But I shall wait till we comeback now. " She yawned a little. "I don't in the least want to earn myliving, you know, " she added candidly, "and there's no way I couldhonestly. I don't really know any French at all. "

Sloyd regarded her with mingled pleasure and pain. His taste was formore robust beauty and more striking raiment, and she--no, she was notneat. Yet he decided that she would, as he put it, pay for dressing; shewanted some process analogous to the thorough repair which he loved tosee applied to old houses. Then she would be attractive--not his sort, of course, but still attractive. 

"I wonder if you'll meet Madame Zabriska, the lady I let Merrion Lodgeto, and the gentleman with her, her uncle. "

"I expect not. My cousin invites us for the funeral. It's on Saturday. Isuppose we shall stay the Sunday, that's all. And I don't suppose weshall see anybody, to speak to, anyhow. " Her air was very careless; thewhole thing was represented as rather a bore. 

"You should make a longer visit--I'm sure his lordship will be delightedto have you, and it's a charming neighborhood, a very desirableneighborhood indeed. "

"I dare say. But desirable things don't generally come our way, MrSloyd, or at any rate not much of them. "

"It's pretty odd to think it'd all be yours if--if anything happened toLord Tristram. " His tone showed a mixture of amusement and awe. She waswhat he saw--she might become My Lady! The incongruity reached his senseof humor, while her proximity to a noble status nearly made him take offhis hat. 

"It may be pretty odd, " she said indolently, "but it doesn't do me muchgood, does it?"

This last remark summed up the attitude which Cecily had always adoptedabout Blent, and she chose to maintain it now that she was at last tosee Blent. Probably her father's family instinct had driven her into aninsincere opposition; or she did not consider it dignified to showinterest in relatives who had shown none in her. She had never beenasked to Blent. If she was asked now it was as a duty; as a duty shewould go. Harry did not monopolize the Tristram blood or the Tristrampride. But this attitude was not very comprehensible to her presentcompanion. As a personal taste, Mr Sloyd would have liked to beconnected, however remotely, with the aristocracy, and, if he had been, would have let his social circle hear a good deal about it; even abusiness connection was something, and suffered no loss of importance inhis practised hands. 

Yet in her heart she was on fire with an excitement which Sloyd wouldhave wondered at, and which made her father's fussy nervousness seemabsurd. At last she was to see with her eyes the things she had alwaysheard of. She was to see Blent. Addie Tristram indeed she could nolonger see; that had always been denied to her, and the loss wasirreparable. But even the dead Lady Tristram she would soon be able torealize far better than she had yet done; she would put her into hersurroundings. And Harry would be there, the cousin who had never beencousinly, the young man whom she did not know and who was a factor ofsuch importance in her life. She had dreams in abundance about theexpedition; and it was in vain that reason said "It'll be all over inthree days. Then back to the little house and the need for thatadvertisement!" Luckily, this sort of suggestion, made by reason, neversounds probable, however well reason proves to us that it must come topass. Cecily was sure that at last--ah, at last!--a change in life hadcome. Life had been always so very much the same; changes generally needmoney, and money had not been hers. Knowledge usually needs money too, and of the kinds of life outside her own narrow sphere she was veryignorant. Beautiful things also need money; of them she had seen andenjoyed very little; only the parodies came to the small house in thesmall road. All these things joined to make her feel that a great momentwas at hand; she might and did deride herself, but the feeling wasthere, and at last she admitted it to her father when she said with alittle laugh:

"I don't suppose anybody ever was so excited over a funeral before!"

But perhaps there was ignorance in that remark too. It has been seen, for instance, that Miss Swinkerton and her friends could be veryexcited, although they had not the excuse of youth, of dreams, or of anykinship with the Tristrams. 

"It's begun!" Cecily said to herself when, three days afterward, theygot out of their third-class carriage and got into the landau thatwaited for them. The footman, touching his hat, asked if MissGainsborough had brought a maid. ("The maid, " not "A maid, " was the formof reference familiar to Miss Gainsborough. ) Her father was in newblack, she was in new black, the two trunks had been well polished; andthe seats of the landau were very soft. 

"They don't use the Fitzhubert crest, I observe, " remarked Gainsborough. "Only the Tristram fox. Did you notice it on the harness?"

"I was gazing with all my eyes at the coronet on the panel, " sheanswered, laughing. 

A tall and angular lady came up and spoke to the footman, as he wasabout to mount the box. 

"At two on Saturday, miss, " they heard him reply. Miss Swinkertonnodded, and walked slowly past the carriage, giving the occupants aleisurely stare. Of course Miss S. Had known the time of the funeralquite well; now her intimates would be made equally well acquainted withthe appearance of the visitors. 

Blent was in full beauty that summer evening, and the girl sat inentranced silence as they drove by the river and came where the oldhouse stood. The blinds were down, the escutcheon, with the Tristram foxagain, above the door in the central tower. They were ushered into thelibrary. Gainsborough's eyes ran over the books with a longing enviousglance; his daughter turned to the window, to look at the Blent and upto Merrion. A funny remembrance of Sloyd crossed her mind, and shesmiled. Had she already so caught the air of the place that Sloyd seemedto her both remote and very plebeian? Turning her head, she saw the leftwing with the row of windows that lighted the Long Gallery; she hadnever seen such a room in a private house, and thought there must beseveral rooms in that wing. A man-servant brought in tea, and told themthat Mr Tristram was engaged in pressing business and begged to beexcused; dinner would be at 8. 15. Disappointed at her host'sinvisibility, she gave her father tea with a languid air. The little manwas nervous and excited; he walked the carpet carefully; but soon hepounced on a book--a county history--and sat down with it. After a fewminutes' idleness Cecily rose, strolled into the hall, and thence outinto the garden. The hush of the house had become oppressive to her. 

Yes, everything was very beautiful; she felt that again, and drank itin, indulging her thirst so long unsatisfied. She had seen largerplaces, such palaces as all the folk of London are allowed to see. Thepresent scene was new. And in the room above lay Addie Tristram in hercoffin--the lovely strange woman of whom her mother had told her. Shewould not see Lady Tristram, but she seemed now to see all her life andto be able to picture her, to understand why she did the things theytalked of, and what manner of woman she had been. She wandered to thelittle bridge. The stream below was the Blent! Geographies might treatthe rivulet with scanty notice and with poor respect; to her it wasJordan--the sacred river. Might not its god have been ancestor to allthe Tristrams? In such a place as this one could have many such fancies;they would come to feed the mind and make it grow, to transform it intosomething that could appreciate poetry. A big rose-tree climbed the wallof the right wing. Who had picked its blossoms and through how manyyears? Its flowers must often have adorned Addie Tristram's unsurpassedloveliness. After the years of short commons there came this bountifulfeast to her soul. She felt herself a Tristram. A turn of chance mighthave made all this her own. Her breath seemed to stop as she thought ofthis. The idea now was far different from what it had sounded when Sloydgave it utterance in the tiny strip of garden behind the tiny house, andshe had greeted it with scorn and a mocking smile. She did not want allthis for her own; but she did want--how she wanted!--to be allowed tostop and look at it, to stay long enough to make it part of her andhave it to carry back with her to her home between the King's Road andthe Fulham Road in London. 

She crossed the bridge and walked up the valley. Twenty minutes broughther to the Pool. It opened on her with a new surprise. The sun had justleft it and its darkness was touched by mystery. The steep wooded bankopposite cast a dull heavy shadow across half the surface; the lowlapping of the water sounded like somebody whispering old secrets thatshe seemed half to hear, garrulous histories of the dead--the dead whoseblood was in her veins--old glories, old scandals, old trifles, allmixed together, all of great importance in the valley of the Blent. Whocares about such things in London, about anybody's family, or anybodyhimself? There is no time for such things in London. It is verydifferent in the valley of the Blent when the sun is low and the cry ofa bird makes a sound too shrill to be welcome. 

Turning by chance to look up the road toward Mingham, she saw a mancoming down the hill. He was sauntering idly along, beating the grass bythe road-side with his stick. Suddenly he stopped short, put his handabove his eyes, and gave her a long look; he seemed to start. Then hebegan to walk toward her with a rapid eager stride. She turned away andstrolled along by the Pool on her way back to Blent Hall. But he wouldnot be denied; his tread came nearer; he overtook her and halted almostby her side, raising his hat and gazing with uncompromising straightnessin her face. She knew him at once; he must be Harry Tristram. Waslounging about the roads his pressing business?

"I beg your pardon, " he said with a curious appearance of agitation. "Iam Harry Tristram, and you must be----?"

"Cecily Gainsborough, " said she with a distant manner, inclined to beoffended that their meeting should be by accident. Why had he notreceived his guests if he had nothing to do but lounge about the roads?

"Yes, I was sure. The moment I thought, I was sure. " He took no heed ofher manner, engrossed in some preoccupation of his own. "At first I wasstartled. " He smiled now, as he offered her his hand. Then herecollected. "You must forgive me for being out. I have been hard atwork all day, and the craving for the evening was on me. I went outwithout thinking. "

"They said you were engaged on pressing business. "

"They lied for me. I forgot to leave any message. I'm not generallydiscourteous. "

His apology disarmed her and made her resentment seem petty. 

"How could you think of us at such a time? It's good of you to have usat all. "

"My mother wanted you to come. " He added no welcome of his own. "Younever saw her, did you?" he asked a moment later. 

Cecily shook her head. She was rather confused by the steady gaze of hiseyes. Did Cousin Harry always stare at people as hard as that? Yet itwas not exactly a stare; it was too thoughtful, too ruminative, toounconscious for that. 

"Let's walk back together. You've had a look at the place alreadyperhaps?"

"It's very beautiful. "

"Yes, " he assented absently, as they began to walk. 

If she did not stare, still she used her eyes, curiously studying hisface with its suggestion of strength and that somehow ratherinconsistent hint of sensitiveness. He was gloomy; that was just nowonly proper. She saw something that puzzled her; Mina Zabriska couldhave told her what it was, but she herself did not succeed inidentifying Harry's watching look. She was merely puzzled at a certainshade of expression in the eyes. She had not seen it at the firstmoment, but it was there now as he turned to her from time to time whilethey sauntered along. 

"That's Merrion, our dower-house. But it's let now to a funny littlewoman, Madame Zabriska. She's rather a friend of mine, but her uncle, who lives with her, doesn't like me. " He smiled as he spoke of theMajor. "She's very much interested in you. "

"In me? Has she heard of me?"

"She hears of most things. She's as sharp as a needle. I like herthough. "

He said no more till they were back in the garden; then he proposed thatthey should sit down on the seat by the river. 

"My mother used to sit here often, " he said. "She always loved to seethe sun go down from the garden. She didn't read or do anything; shejust sat watching. "

"Thinking?" Cecily suggested. 

"Well, hardly. Letting thoughts happen if they wanted to, perhaps. Shewas always rather--rather passive about things, you know. They took holdof her if--well, as I say, if they wanted to. " He turned to her quicklyas he asked, "Are you at all like that?"

"I believe I'm only just beginning to find out that I'm anything or likeanything. And, anyhow, I'm quite different from what I was yesterday. "

"From yesterday?"

"Yes. Just by coming here, I think. "

"That's what I mean! Things do take hold of you then?"

"This place does apparently, " she answered laughing, as she leaned backon the seat, throwing her arm behind her and resting her head on it. Shecaught him looking at her again with marked and almost startledintensity. He was rather strange with his alternations of apparentforgetfulness and this embarrassing scrutiny. 

"Tell me about yourself, " he asked, or rather commanded, so brusque anddirect was the request. 

She told him about the small house and the small life she had led in it, even about the furniture and the bric-à-brac, confessing to heroccasional clearances and the deception she had to practise on herfather about them. He was very silent, but he was a good listener. Soonhe began to smoke, but did not ask leave. This might be rudeness, butseemed a rather cousinly sort of rudeness, and was readily forgiven. 

"And suddenly I come to all this!" she murmured. Then with a start sheadded, "But I'm forgetting your mother's death and what you must feel, and chattering about myself!"

"I asked you to talk about yourself. Is it such a great change to comehere?"

"Immense! To come here even for a day! Immense!" She waved her hand amoment and found him following it with his eyes as it moved. 

"You don't look, " he said slowly, "as if it was any change at all. "

"What do you mean?" she asked, interested in what he seemed to suggest. 

"You fit in, " he murmured, looking up at the house--at the window ofAddie Tristram's room. "And you're very poor?" he asked. 

"Yes. And you----!"

"Oh, I'm not rich as such things go. The estate has fallen in value verymuch, you know. But----" He broke off, frowning a little. "Still we'recomfortable enough, " he resumed. 

"I should think so. You'd always have it to look at anyhow. What did youthink I should be like?"

"Anything in the world but what you are. "

The tone was at once too sincere and too absent for a compliment. Cecilyknew herself not to be plain; but he was referring to something elsethan that. 

"In fact I hardly thought of you as an individual at all. You were theGainsboroughs. "

"And you didn't like the Gainsboroughs?" she cried in a flash ofintuition. 

"No, I didn't, " he admitted. 

"Why not?"

"A prejudice, " answered Harry Tristram after a pause. 

She crossed her legs, sticking one foot out in front of her and lookingat it thoughtfully. He followed the movement and slowly broke into asmile; it was followed by an impatient shrug. With the feminine instinctshe pushed her gown lower down, half over the foot. Harry laughed. Shelooked up, blushing and inclined to be angry. 

"Oh, it wasn't that, " he said, laughing again rather contemptuously. "But----" He rose, took some paces along the lawn, and then, comingback, stood beside her, staring at the Blent and frowning ratherformidably. 

"Did you see me when I first saw you by the Pool?" he asked in a moment. 

"Yes. How you hurried after me!"

Another pause followed, Harry's frown giving way to a smile, but aperplexed and reluctant one. Cecily watched him with puzzledinterest--still sitting with her foot stuck out in front of her and herhead resting on the bend of her arm; her eyes looked upward, and herlips were just parted. 

"Have I been staring at you?" he inquired abruptly. 

"Well, yes, you have, " she answered, laughing. "But a strange cousinexpects to be examined rather carefully. Do I pass muster among theTristrams? Or am I all the hated Gainsborough?"

He looked at her again and earnestly. She met the look without loweringher eyes or altering her position in any particular. 

"It's too absurd!" he declared, half fretful, half amused. "You'refeatures aren't so very much alike--except the eyes, they are--and yourhair's darker. But you move and carry yourself and turn your head as shedid. And that position you're in now--why I've seen her in it a thousandtimes! Your arm there and your foot stuck out----"

His voice grew louder as he went on, his petulant amusement giving wayto an agitation imperfectly suppressed. 

"What do you mean?" she asked, catching excitement from him. 

"Why, my mother. That's her attitude, and your walk's her walk, and yourvoice her voice. You're her--all over! Why, when I saw you by the Pooljust now, a hundred yards off, strolling on the bank----"

"Yes?" she half-whispered. "You started, didn't you?"

"Yes, I started. I thought for a moment I saw my mother's ghost. Ithought my mother had come back to Blent. And it is--you!"

He threw out his hands in a gesture of what seemed despair. 

XII

FIGHTERS AND DOUBTERS

"Miss S. Wasn't so far wrong after all!" exclaimed Mina Zabriska, flinging down a letter on the table by her. 

It was three days after Addie Tristram's funeral. Mina had attended thatceremony, or rather watched it from a little way off. She had seenGainsborough's spare humble figure, she had seen too, with an acuteinterest, the tall slim girl all in black, heavily veiled, who walkedbeside him, just behind the new Lord Tristram. She had also, of course, seen all the neighbors who were looking on like herself, but who gavetheir best attention to Janie Iver and disappointed Miss S. By askinghardly any questions about the Gainsboroughs. Little indeed would havebeen said concerning them except for the fact that Gainsborough (true tohis knack of the unlucky) caught a chill on the occasion and wasconfined to his bed down at Blent. A most vexatious occurrence for LordTristram, said Miss S. But one that he ought to bear patiently, addedMrs Trumbler. And after all, both ladies agreed, it would have beenhardly decent to turn the Gainsboroughs out on Monday, as it was wellknown the new lord had proposed. 

But the Gainsboroughs were not in Mina's thoughts just now. 

 "Nothing is to be made public yet--please remember this. But I want you to know that I have just written to Harry Tristram to say I will marry him. I have had a great deal of trouble, dear Mina, but I think I have done right, looking at it all round. Except my own people I am telling only one friend besides you ('Bob Broadley!' said Mina with a nod, as she read the letter the second time). But I want you to know; and please tell your uncle too. I hope you will both give me your good wishes. I do think I'm acting wisely; and I thought I had no right to keep him waiting and worrying about this when he has so much to think of besides. You must stay at Merrion after I come to Blent. --JANIE. "

Barring the matter of the immediate announcement then, Miss S. Wasjustified. Janie had done the obviously right thing--and was obviouslynot quite sure that it was right. That mattered very little; it wasdone. It was for Mina Zabriska--and others concerned--to adaptthemselves and conform their actions to the accomplished fact. But wouldMajor Duplay take that view? To Mina was intrusted the delicate task ofbreaking the news to her uncle. It is the virtue of a soldier not toknow when he is beaten; of a general not to let others know. To whatstandard of martial conduct would the Major adhere? This matter of theMajor was in every way a nuisance to his niece. In the first place shewanted to think about herself and her own feelings--the one luxury ofthe unhappy. Secondly she was afraid again. For Harry suddenly seemed tobe no protection now, and the horrors threatened by Duplay--theinterrogation, the lawyer's office, and the like--recovered theirdreadfulness. It had been easy--perhaps pleasant--to suffer for theconfidential friend who had opened his heart to her on the hillside. Itbecame less easy and certainly more unpleasant to be sacrificed forJanie Iver's _fiancé_. But Mina, though no longer exultant and no morefearless, would be loyal and constant all the same. Should she, aftersaving others, be herself a castaway? She experienced a longing for thesympathy and support of Mr Jenkinson Neeld. Surely he would stand firmtoo? He was still at Fairholme. Was he included in Janie's "own people"?Had he been told the news?

The delicate task! The Imp's temper was far too bad for delicacy; shefound a positive pleasure in outraging it. She took her letter, marchedinto the smoking-room, and threw it to (not to say at) her uncle. 

"Read that!" she said and strode off to the window to have a look atBlent. The letter had succeeded, it seemed, in taking away from her lifeall she wanted, and introducing into it all she did not. 

"This is very serious, " declared the Major solemnly, "very seriousindeed, Mina. "

"Don't see how, " snapped the Imp, presenting an unwavering back-view toher uncle. "If they like to get married, why is it serious?"

"Pray be reasonable, " he urged. "You must perceive that the situation Ihave always contemplated----"

"Well, you can go on contemplating it, can't you, uncle? It won't domuch good, but still----"

"The situation, I say, has arisen. " She heard him get up, walk to thehearth-rug, and strike a match. Of course he was going to have acigarette! He would smoke it all through with exasperating slowness andthen arrive at an odious conclusion. Mina had not been married fornothing; she knew men's ways. He justified her forecast; it was minutesbefore he spoke again. 

"The terms of this letter, " he resumed at last, "fortify me in mypurpose. It is evident that Miss Iver is influenced--largelyinfluenced--by--er--the supposed position of--er--Mr Tristram. "

"Of who?"

"Of the present possessor of Blent. "

"If you want people to know who you mean, you'd better say LordTristram. "

"For the present, if you wish it. I say, she is----" Duplay's pompousformality suddenly broke down. "She's taking him for his title, that'sall. "

"Oh, if you choose to say things like that about your friends!"

"You know it's true. What becomes my duty then?"

"I don't know and I don't care. Only I hate people to talk about dutywhen they're going to----" Well, one must stop somewhere in describingone's relatives' conduct. The Imp stopped there. But the sentence reallylost nothing; Duplay could guess pretty accurately what she had beengoing to say. 

Fortunately, although he was very dependent on her help, he cared littleabout her opinion. She neither would nor could judge his positionfairly; she would not perceive how he felt, how righteous was his anger, how his friends were being cheated and he was being jockeyed out of hischances by one and the same unscrupulous bit of imposture. He hadbrought himself round to a more settled state of mind and had got hisconscience into better order. If he were acting unselfishly, he deservedcommendation. But even if self-interest guided him he was free of blame. No man is bound to let himself be swindled. He doubted seriously ofnothing now except his power to upset Harry Tristram's plans. He wasresolved to try; Mina must speak--and if money were needed, it must comefrom somewhere. The mere assertion of what he meant to allege must atleast delay this hateful marriage. It must be added--though the Majorwas careful not to add--that it would also give Harry Tristram a veryunpleasant shock; the wrestling bout by the Pool and the loss of thatshilling were not forgotten. It may further be observed--though theMajor could not be expected to observe--that he had such an estimate ofhis own attractions as led him to seize very eagerly on any evidences ofliking for Harry's position, rather than of preference for Harryhimself, which Janie's letter might be considered to afford. The Major, in fact, had a case; good argument made it seem a good case. It issomething to have a case that can be argued at all; morality has a sadhabit of leaving us without a leg to stand on. In the afternoon of thatday Duplay went down to Fairholme. Miss Swinkerton passed him on theroad and smiled sagaciously. Oh, if Miss S. Had known the truth abouthis errand! A gossip in ignorance has pathos as a spectacle. 

Mr Neeld was still at Fairholme; he had been pressed to stay and neededlittle pressing; in fact, in default of the pressure he would probablyhave taken lodgings in the town. He could not go away; he had seen AddieTristram buried, and her son walking behind the coffin, clad in his newdignity. His mind was full of the situation. Yet he had shrunk fromdiscussing it further with Mina Zabriska. The family anxiety aboutJanie's love affair had been all round him. Now he suspected stronglythat some issue was being decided upon. He ought to speak, to break hisword to Mina and speak--or he ought to go. From day to day he meant togo and cease to accept the hospitality which his silence seemed toabuse. But he did not go. These internal struggles were new in hisplacid and estimable life; this affair of Harry Tristram's had a way ofputting people in strange and difficult positions. 

"Mind you say nothing--nothing--nothing. " That sentence had reached himon the reverse side of an invitation to take tea at Merrion--a vaguesome-day-when-you're-passing sort of invitation, in Neeld's eyes plainlyand merely a pretext for writing and an opportunity of conveying theurgent little scrawl on the other side. It arrived at mid-day; in theafternoon Duplay had come and was now alone with Iver. 

The outward calm of the gray-haired old gentleman who sat on the lawn atFairholme, holding a weekly review upside down, was no index to thealarming and disturbing questions which were agitating him within. Atthe end of a blameless life it is hard to discover that you must do oneof two things and that, whichever you do, you will feel like a villain. The news that Josiah Cholderton's Journal was going off very fairly wellwith the trade had been unable to give its editor any consolation; hedid not care about the Journal now. 

Iver came out and sat down beside him without speaking. Neeld hastilyrestored his paper to a position more befitting its dignity and becameapparently absorbed in an article on _Shyness in Elephants_; the subjectwas treated with a wealth of illustration and in a vein of introspectivephilosophy exceedingly instructive. But it was all wasted on Mr Neeld. He was waiting for Iver; no man could be so silent unless he hadsomething important to say or to leave unsaid. And Iver was not evensmoking the cigar which he always smoked after tea. Neeld could bear itno longer; he got up and was about to move away. 

"Stop, Neeld. Do you mind sitting down again for a moment?"

Neeld could do nothing but comply. The review fell on the ground by himand he ceased to struggle with the elephants. 

"I want to ask your opinion----"

"My dear Iver, my opinion! Oh, I'm not a business man, and----"

"It's not business. You know Major Duplay? What do you think of him?"

"I--I've always found him very agreeable. "

"Yes, so have I. And I've always thought him honest, haven't you?"

Neeld admitted that he had no reason to impugn the Major's character. 

"And I suppose he's sane, " Iver pursued. "But he's just been telling methe most extraordinary thing. " He paused a moment. "I dare say you'venoticed something between Janie and young Tristram? I may as well tellyou that she has just consented to marry him. But I don't want to talkabout that except so far as it comes into the other matter--which itdoes very considerably. " He laid his hand on Neeld's knee. "Neeld, Duplay came and told me that Harry Tristram has no title to the peerageor to Blent. I'm not going to trouble you with the details now. It comesto this--Harry was born before, not after, the marriage of his parents. Duplay says Mina knows all about it, and will give us information thatwill make the proof easy. That's a tolerably startling story, eh? One'sprepared for something where Lady Tristram was involved, but this----!"

It was fortunate that he did not glance at Neeld; Neeld had tried toappear startled, but had succeeded only in looking supremely miserable. But Iver's eyes were gazing straight in front of him under brows thatfrowned heavily. 

"Now, what I want you to do, " he resumed, "and I'm sure you won't refuseme, is this. I'm inclined to dismiss the whole thing as a blunder. Ibelieve Duplay's honest, but I think certain facts in his own positionhave led him to be too ready to believe a mere yarn. But I've consentedto see Mina and hear what she has to say. And I said I should bring youas a witness. I go to Merrion Lodge to-morrow for this purpose, and Ishall rely on you to accompany me. " With that the cigar made itsappearance; Iver lit it and lay back in his chair, frowning still inperplexity and vexation. He had not asked his friend's opinion but hisservices. It was characteristic of him not to notice this fact. And thefact did nothing to relieve Neeld's piteous embarrassment. 

"I knew it all along;" he might say that. "I know nothing about it;" hemight act that. Or he might temporize for a little while. This was whathe did. 

"It would make a great difference if this were true?" His voice shook, but Iver was absorbed. 

"An enormous difference, " said Iver (Lady Tristram herself had once saidthe same). "I marry my daughter to Lord Tristram of Blent or to--towhom? You'll call that snobbishness, or some people would. I say it'snot snobbish in us new men to consider that. It's the right thing for usto do, Neeld. Other things equal--if the man's a decent fellow and thegirl likes him--I say it's the right thing for us to do. That's the wayit always has happened, and the right way too. "

Mr Neeld nodded. He had sympathy with these opinions. 

"But if it's true, why, who's Harry Tristram? Oh, I know it's all afluke, a damned fluke, if you like, Neeld, and uncommonly hard on theboy. But the law's the law, and for my own part I'm not in favor ofaltering it. Now do you suppose I want my daughter to marry him, if it'strue?"

"I suppose you wouldn't, " murmured Neeld. 

"And there's another thing. Duplay says Harry knows it--Duplay swears heknows it. Well then, what's he doing? In my opinion he's practising afraud. He knows he isn't what he pretends to be. He deceives me, hedeceives Janie. If the thing ever comes out, where is she? He's treatedus very badly if it's true. "

The man, ordinarily so calm and quiet in his reserved strength, brokeout into vehemence as he talked of what Harry Tristram had done if theMajor's tale were true. Neeld asked himself what his host would say of afriend who knew the story to be true and yet said nothing of it. Heperceived too that although Iver would not have forced his daughter'sinclination, yet the marriage was very good in his eyes, the proper endand the finest crown to his own career. This had never come home toNeeld with any special force before. Iver was English of the English inhis repression, in his habit of meeting both good and bad luckwith--well, with something like a grunt. But he was stirred now; thesuddenness of the thing had done it. And in face of his feelings howstood Mr Neeld? He saw nothing admirable in how and where he stood. 

"Well, we'll see Mina and hear if she's got anything to say. Fancy thatlittle monkey being drawn into a thing like this! Meanwhile we'll saynothing. I don't believe it, and I shall want a lot of convincing. UntilI am convinced everything stands as it did. I rely on you for that, Neeld--and I rely on you to come to Merrion to-morrow. Not a word to mywife--above all not a word to Janie!" He got up, took possession ofNeeld's review, and walked off into the house with his business-likequick stride. 

Neeld sat there, slowly rubbing his hands against one another betweenhis knees. He was realizing what he had done, or rather what hadhappened to him. When his life, his years, and what he conceived to behis character were considered, it was a very surprising thing, thissilence of his--the conspiracy he had entered into with Mina Zabriska, the view of duty which the Imp, or Harry, or the thought of beautifulAddie Tristram, or all of them together, had made him take. So strange aview for him! To run counter to law, to outrage good sense, to slightthe claims of friendship, to suppress the truth, to aid what Iver sorelentlessly called a fraud--all these were strange doings for him to beengaged in. And why had he done it? The explanation was as strange asthe things that he invoked it to explain. Still rubbing his hands, palmagainst palm, to and fro, he said very slowly, with wonder andreluctance:

"I was carried away. I was carried away by--by romance. "

The word made him feel a fool. Yet what other word was there for theoverwhelming unreasoning feeling that at the cost of everything theTristrams, mother and son, must keep Blent, the son living and themother dead, that the son must dwell there and the spirit of the motherbe about him she loved in the spot that she had graced? It was very rankromance indeed--no other word for it! And--wildest paradox--it all cameout of editing Josiah Cholderton's Journal. 

Before he had made any progress in unravelling his skein of perplexitieshe saw Janie coming across the lawn. She took the chair her father hadleft and seemed to take her father's mood with it; the same oppressivesilence settled on her. Neeld broke it this time. 

"You don't look very merry, Miss Janie, " he said, smiling at her andachieving a plausible jocularity. 

"Why should I, Mr Neeld?" She glanced at him. "Oh, has father told youanything?"

"Yes, that you're engaged. You know how truly I desire your happiness, my dear. " With a pretty courtesy the old man took her hand and kissedit, baring his gray hair the while. 

"You're very, very kind. Yes, I've promised to marry Harry Tristram. Notyet, you know. And it isn't to be announced. But I've promised. "

He stole a glance at her, and then another. She did not look merryindeed. Neeld knew his ignorance of feminine things, and made guesseswith proper diffidence; but he certainly fancied she had been crying--orvery near it--not so long ago. Yet the daughter of William Iver wassensible and not given to silly tears. 

"I think I've done right, " she said--as she had said when she wrote toMina. "Everybody will be pleased. Father's very pleased. " Suddenly sheput out her hand and took hold of his, giving it a tight grip. "Oh, but, Mr Neeld, I've made somebody so unhappy. "

"I dare say, my dear, I dare say. I was a young fellow once. I daresay. "

"And he says nothing about it. He wished me joy--and he does wish me joytoo. I've no right to talk to you, to tell you, or anything. I don'tbelieve people think girls ever mind making men unhappy; but they do. "

"If they like the men?" This suggestion at least was not too difficultfor him. 

"Yes, when they like them, when they're old friends, you know. I onlyspoke to him for a moment, I only just met him on the road. I don'tsuppose I shall ever talk to him about it, or about anything inparticular, again. " She squeezed Neeld's hand a second time, and thenwithdrew her own. 

This was unknown country again for Mr Neeld; his sense of being lostgrew more acute. These were not the sort of problems which had occupiedhis life; but they seemed now to him no less real, hardly lessimportant. It was only a girl wondering if she had done right. Yet hefelt the importance of it. 

"You can't help the unhappiness, " he said. "You must go to the man youlove, my dear. "

With a little start she turned and looked at him for an instant. Thenshe murmured in a perfunctory fashion:

"Yes, I must make the best choice I can, of course. " She added after apause, "But I wish----"

Words or the inclination to speak failed her again, and she relapsedinto silence. 

As he sat there beside her, silent too, his mind travelled back to whather father had said; and slowly he began to understand. No doubt sheliked Harry, even as her father did. No doubt she thought he would be agood husband, as Iver had thought him a good fellow. But it became plainto the searcher after truth that not to her any more than to her fatherwas it nothing that Harry was Tristram of Blent. Her phrases about doingright and making the right choice included a reference to that, even ifthat were not their whole meaning. She had mentioned her father'spleasure--everybody's pleasure. That pleasure would be found largely inseeing her Lady Tristram. What then would she have to say on thequestion that so perplexed Mr Neeld? Would she not echo Iver'saccusation of fraud against Harry Tristram and (as a consequence)against those who aided and abetted him? Would she understand or acceptas an excuse the plea that Neeld had been led away by romance orentrapped into a conspiracy by Mina Zabriska? No. She too would call out"Fraud, fraud!" and he did not blame her. He called himself a fool forhaving been led away by romance, by unreasoning feeling. Should he blameher because she was not led away? His disposition was to praise her fora choice so wise, and to think that she had done very right inaccepting Lord Tristram of Blent. Aye, Lord Tristram of Blent!Precisely! Deep despair settled on Mr Neeld's baffled mind. 

Meanwhile, Duplay walked home, the happier for having crossed hisRubicon. He had opened his campaign with all the success he could haveexpected. Like a wise man, Iver held nothing true till it was proved;but like a wise man also he dubbed nothing a lie merely because it wasnew or improbable. And on the whole he had done the Major justice. Hehad smiled for a moment when he hinted that Duplay and Harry were notvery cordial; the Major met him by a straightforward recognition thatthis was true, and by an indirect admission of the reason. As to thislatter Iver had dropped no word; but he would give Duplay a hearing. Nowit remained only to bring Mina to reason. If she spoke, the case wouldbe so strong as to demand inquiry. The relief in Duplay's mind was sogreat that he could not explain it, until he realized that his niece'sway of treating him had so stuck in his memory that he had been preparedto be turned from Iver's doors with contumely. Such an idea seemedabsurd now, and the Major laughed. 

Mina was strange, Duplay never ceased to think that. They had parted onimpossible terms; but now, as soon as he appeared, she ran at him withapparent pleasure and with the utmost eagerness. She asked nothing abouthis expedition either, though she could easily have guessed where he hadbeen and for what purpose. She almost danced as she cried:

"I've seen her! I've been talking to her! I met her in the meadow nearMatson's cottage, and she asked me the way back to Blent. Uncle, she'swonderful!"

"Who are you talking about?"

"Why, Cecily Gainsborough, of course. I just remember how Lady Tristramspoke. She speaks the same way exactly! I can't describe it, but it'sthe sort of voice that makes you want to do anything in the world itasks. Don't you know? She told me a lot about herself; then she talkedabout Blent. She's full of it; she admires it most tremendously----"

"That's all right, " interrupted Duplay with a malicious smile. "Because, so far as I can understand, she happens to own it. "

"What?" The Imp stood frozen into stillness. 

"You've been talking to Lady Tristram of Blent, " he added with a nod. "Though I suppose you didn't tell her so?"

To Lady Tristram of Blent! She had never once thought of that while theytalked. The shock of the idea was great, so great that Mina forgot torepudiate it, or to show any indignation at Harry's claims being passedby in contemptuous silence. All the while they talked, she had thoughtof the girl as far removed from Blent, as even more of a visitor to thecountryside than she herself was, a wonderful visitor indeed, but nopart of their life. And she was--well, at the least she was heir toBlent! How had she forgotten that? The persistent triumph of Duplay'ssmile marked his sense of the success of his sally. 

"Yes, and she'll be installed there before many months are out, " he wenton. "So I hope you made yourself pleasant, Mina?"

Mina gave him one scornful glance, as she passed by him and ran out onto her favorite terrace. There was a new thing to look and to wonder atin Blent. The interest, the sense of concern in Blent and its affairs, which the news of the engagement had blunted and almost destroyed, revived in her now. She forgot the prose of that marriage arrangementand turned eagerly to the poetry of Cecily Gainsborough, of the poorgirl there in the house that was hers, unwitting guest of the man whowas---- The Imp stopped herself with rude abruptness. What had she beenabout to say, what had she been about to think? The guest of the man whowas robbing her? That had been it. But no, no, no! She did not thinkthat. Confused in her mind by this new idea, none the less she found hersympathy going out to Harry again. He was not a robber; it was his own. The blood, she cried still, and not the law. But what was to be doneabout Cecily Gainsborough? Was she to go back to the little house inLondon, was she to go back to ugliness, to work, to short commons? Thereseemed no way out. Between the old and the new attraction, the oldallegiance and the new claim to homage that Cecily made, Mina Zabriskastood bewildered. She had a taste now of the same perplexity that shehad done so much to bring on poor Mr Neeld at Fairholme. Yet not quitethe same. He did not know what he ought to do; she did not feel sure ofwhat she wanted. Both stood undecided. Mr Cholderton's Journal was stillat its work of disturbing people's minds. 

But Major Duplay was well content with the day's work. If his niece hada divided mind she would be easier to bend to his will. He did not carewho had Blent, if only it passed from Harry. But it was a point gainedif Mina could think of its passing from Harry to somebody who would bewelcome to her there. Then she would tell the story which she hadreceived from her mother, and the first battle against Harry Tristramwould be won. The excitement of fighting was on the Major now. He couldneither pity the enemy nor distrust his own cause till the strife wasdone. 

Amongst all the indecision there was about, Duplay had the merit of aclear vision of his own purpose and his own desires. 

XIII

IN THE LONG GALLERY

The man with whom the fighters and the doubters were concerned, in whosedefence or attack efforts and hopes were enlisted, round whom hesitationand struggles gathered, was thinking very little about his champions orhis enemies. No fresh whispers of danger had come to Harry Tristram'sears. He knew nothing of Neeld and could not think of that quiet oldgentleman as a possible menace to his secret. He trusted Mina Zabriskaand relied on the influence which he had proved himself to possess overher. He did not believe that Duplay would stick to his game, and was notafraid of him if he did. The engagement was accomplished; the big check, or the prospect of it, lay ready to his hand; his formal proofs, perfectso long as they were unassailed, awaited the hour when formal proofswould be required. To all appearance he was secure in his inheritanceand buttressed against any peril. No voice was raised, no murmur washeard, to impugn the right of the new Lord Tristram of Blent. The objectof all those long preparations, which had occupied his mother andhimself for so many years, was achieved. He sat in Addie Tristram'splace, and none said him nay. 

His mind was not much on these matters at all. Even his engagementoccupied him very little. Janie's letter had arrived and had been read. It came at mid-day, and the evening found it still unacknowledged. Ithad broken in from outside as it were, intruding like something foreigninto the life that he had begun to live on the evening before AddieTristram was buried, the evening when for an instant he had thought hesaw her phantom by the Pool; a life foreshadowed by the new mood whichMina had noticed in him while Lady Tristram still lived, but broughtinto reality by the presence of another. It seemed a new life coming toone who was almost a new man, so much of the unexpected in him did itreveal to himself. He had struggled against it, saying that the Mondaymorning would see an end of this unlooked-for episode of feeling and ofcompanionship. Accident stepped in; Gainsborough lay in bed with a chilland could not move. Harry acquiesced in the necessity of his remaining, not exactly with pleasure, rather with a sense that something had begunto happen, not by his will, but affecting him deeply. What would come ofit he did not know; that it would end in a day or two, that it would beonly an episode and leave no permanent mark seemed now almostimpossible; it was fraught with something bigger than that. 

But with what? He had no reasoned idea; he was unable to reason. He waspassive in the hands of the feelings, the impressions, the fancies thatlaid hold of him. Addie Tristram's death had moved him strangely; thencame that hardly natural, eerily fascinating reminiscence--no, it wasmore than that--that re-embodiment or resurrection of her in the girlwho moved and talked and sat like her, who had her ways though not herface, her eyes set in another frame, her voice renewed in youthfulrichness, the very turns of her head, even her old trick of sticking outher foot. He scowled sometimes, he was surprised into laughtersometimes; at another moment he would rebel against the malicious Powerthat seemed to be having a joke with him; for the most part he looked, and looked, and looked, unwilling to miss a single one of thecharacteristic touches which had been Addie Tristram's belongings andwhich he had never expected to see again after her spirit had passedaway. And the outcome of all his looking was still the same as theeffect of his first impression on the evening before the funeral--a sortof despair. A thing was there which he did not know how to deal with. 

And she was so happy, so absurdly happy. She had soon found that heexpected no conventional solemnity; he laughed himself at the idea ofAddie Tristram wanting people to pull long faces, and keep them longwhen pulled, because she had laid her burden down and was at peace. Cecily found she might be merry, and merry she was. A new life had cometo her too, a life of river and trees and meadows; deeper than that, alife of beauty about her. She absorbed it with a native thirst. Therewas plenty of it, and she had been starved so long. She seized on Blentand enjoyed it to the full. She enjoyed Harry too, laughing now when hestared at her and making him laugh, yet herself noting all his ways, hispride, his little lordlinesses--these grew dear to her--his air ofowning the countryside, and making no secret of her own pleasure inbeing part of the family and in living in the house that owned thecountryside. It is to be feared that Mr Gainsborough and his chill wererather neglected, but he got on very well with Addie Tristram's ancientmaid; she had the nobility at her fingers' ends and even knew somethingabout their pedigrees. Cecily was free, or assumed the freedom, to spendher time with Harry, or, if he failed her, at least with and among thethings that belonged to him and had belonged to beautiful Addie Tristramwho had been like her--so Harry said, and Cecily treasured the thought, teasing him now sometimes, as they grew intimate, with a purposedrepetition of a pose or trick that she had first displayedunconsciously, and found had power to make him frown or smile. Shesmiled herself in mischievous triumph when she hit her mark, or shewould break into the rich gurgle of delight that he remembered hearingfrom his young mother when he himself was a child. The life was to herall pure delight; she had no share in the thoughts that often darkenedhis brow, no knowledge of the thing which again and again filled himwith that wondering despair. 

On the evening of the day when Major Duplay went to Fairholme, the twosat together in the garden after dinner. It was nine o'clock, a closestill night, with dark clouds now and then slowly moving off and on tothe face of a moon nearly full. They had been silent for some minutes, sipping coffee. Cecily pointed to the row of windows in the left wing ofthe house. 

"I've never been there, " she said. "What's that?"

"The Long Gallery--all one long room, you know, " he answered. 

"One room! All that! What's in it?"

"Well, everything mostly, " he smiled. "All our treasures, and ourpictures, and so on. "

"Why haven't you taken me there?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "You never asked me, " he said. 

"Well, will you take me there now--when you've finished your cigar?"

There was a pause before he answered, "Yes, if you like. " He turned tothe servant who had come to take away the coffee. "Light up the LongGallery at once. "

"Yes, my lord. " A slight surprise broke through the respectfulacceptance of the order. 

"It was lighted last for my mother, months ago, " Harry said, as thoughhe were explaining his servant's surprise. "She sat there the lastevening before she took to her room. "

"Is that why you haven't taken me there?"

"I expect it is. " His tone was not very confident. 

"And you don't much want to now?"

"No, I don't know that I do. " But his reluctance seemed vague and weak. 

"Oh, I must go, " Cecily decided, "but you needn't come unless you like, you know. "

"All right, you go alone, " he agreed. 

Window after window sprang into light. "Ah!" murmured Cecily insatisfaction; and Mina Zabriska saw the illumination from the terrace ofMerrion on the hill. Cecily rose, waved her hand to Harry, and ran offinto the house with a laugh. The next moment he saw her figure in thefirst window; she threw it open, waved her hand again, and againlaughed; the moon, clear for a moment, shone on her face and turned itpale. 

He sat watching the lighted windows. From time to time she darted intosight; once he heard the big window at the end facing the river flungopen, the next instant she was in sight at the other extremity of theGallery. Evidently she was running about, examining all the things. Shecame to a window presently and cried, "I wish you'd come and tell me allabout it. " "I don't think I will, " he called back. "Oh, well----!" shelaughed impatiently, and disappeared. Minutes passed and he did not seeher again; she must have settled down somewhere, he supposed; or perhapsher interest was exhausted and she had gone off to her father's room. No, there she was, flitting past a window again. His reluctance gave waybefore curiosity and attraction. Flinging away his cigar, he got up andwalked slowly into the house. 

The passage outside the Gallery was dimly lighted, and the door of theGallery was open. Harry stood in the shadow unseen, watching intentlyevery movement of the girl's. She was looking at a case of miniaturesand medals, memorials of beauties and of warriors. She turned from themto the picture of an Elizabethan countess, splendid in ruff and rich inembroidery. She caught up a candle and held it over her head, up towardthe picture. Then setting the candle down she ran to the end window andlooked out on the night. Addie Tristram's tall arm-chair still stood bythe window. Cecily threw herself into it, sighing and stretching herarms in a delighted weariness. Mina Zabriska could make out a figure inthe Long Gallery now. 

Slowly and irresolutely Harry Tristram came in; Cecily's face was notturned toward the door, and he stood unnoticed just within thethreshold. His eyes ranged round the room but came back to Cecily. Shewas very quiet, but he saw her breast rise and fall in quick breathing. She was stirred and moved. A strange agitation, an intensity of feeling, came over him as he stood there motionless, everything seemingmotionless around him, while his ancestors and hers looked down on themfrom the walls, down on their successors. The Lords of Blent were abouthim. Their trophies and their treasures decked the room. And she satthere in Addie Tristram's chair, in Addie Tristram's place, in AddieTristram's attitude. Did the dead know the secret? Did the picturesshare it? Who was to them the Lord of Blent?

He shook off these idle fancies--a man should not give way to them--andwalked up the room with a steady assured tread. Even then she did notseem to hear him till he spoke. 

"Well, do you like it?" he asked, leaning against a table in the middleof the upper part of the room, a few feet from the chair where she sat. Now Mina Zabriska made out two figures, cast up by the bright lightagainst the darkness, and watched them with an eagerness that had noreason in it. 

"Like it!" she cried, springing to her feet, running to him, holding outher hands. "Like it! Oh, Harry! Why, it's better than all the rest. Better, even better!"

"It's rather a jolly room, " said Harry. "The pictures and all the thingsabout make it look well. "

"Oh, I'm not going to say anything if you talk like that. You don't feellike that!--'Rather a jolly room!' That's what one says if the innparlor's comfortable. This isn't a room. It's--it's----"

"Shall we call it a temple?" he suggested, smiling. 

"I believe it's heaven--the private particular Tristram heaven. They'reall here!" She waved toward the pictures. "Here in a heaven of theirown. "

"And we're allowed to visit it before we die?"

"Yes. At least I am. You let me visit it. It belongs to you--to the deadand you. "

"Do you want to stay here any longer?" he asked with a sudden roughness. 

"Yes, lots longer, " she laughed defiantly, quite undismayed. "Youneedn't, though. You'll have it all your life. Perhaps I shall neverhave it again. Father's better! And I don't know if you'll ever ask ushere again. You never did before, you know. So I mean to have all of itI can get. " She darted away from him and ran back to the miniatures. Arichly ornamented sword hung on the wall just above them. This caughther notice; she took it down and unsheathed it. 

"_Henricus Baro Tristram de Blent_, " she spelt out from the enamelledsteel. "_Per Ensem Justitia. _ What does that mean? No, I know. Rather agood motto, cousin Harry. 'That he shall take who has the power, and heshall keep who can!' That was his justice, I expect!"

"Do you quarrel with it? If this was all yours, would you give it up?"

"Not without a fight!" she laughed. "_Per Ensem Justitia!_" She wavedthe blade. 

Harry left her busy with the things that were so great a delight andwalked to the window at the other end of the long room. Thence hewatched, now her, now the clouds that lounged off and on to the moon'sdisk. More and more, though, his eyes were caught by her and glued toher; she was the centre of the room; it seemed all made and prepared forher even as it had seemed for Addie Tristram. The motto ran in hishead--_Per Ensem Justitia_. What was the justice and what the sword? Heawoke to the cause of the changed mood in him and of the agitation inwhich he had been living. It was nothing to defy the law, to make lightof a dry abstraction, to find right against it in his blood. Hisopponent now was no more the law, it was no more even some tiresome, unknown, unrealized girl in London, with surroundings most unpicturesqueand associations that had no power to touch his heart. Here was theenemy, this creature whose every movement claimed the blood that washers, whose coming repaired the loss Blent had suffered in losing AddieTristram, whose presence crowned its charms with a new glory. Naturethat fashioned her in the Tristram image--had it not put in her hand thesword by which she should win justice? The thought passed through hismind now without a shock; he seemed to see her mistress of Blent; forthe moment he forgot himself as anyone save an onlooker; he did not seemconcerned. 

Once more he roused himself. He had fallen into a fear of the fanciesthat threatened to carry him he did not know where. He wanted to getaway from this room with its suggestions, and from the presence thatgave them such force. 

"Aren't you ready yet?" he called to her. "It's getting late. "

"Are you still there?" she cried back in a gay affectation of surprise. "I'd forgotten all about you, I thought I had it to myself. I was tryingto think it was all mine. "

"Shall we go downstairs?" His voice was hard and constrained. 

"No, I won't, " she said squarely. "I can't go. It's barely ten o'clock. Come, we'll talk here. You smoke--or is that high treason?--and I'll sithere. " She threw herself into Addie Tristram's great chair. There was atriumphant gayety in her air that spoke of her joy in all about her, ofher sense of the boundless satisfaction that her surroundings gave. "Ilove it all so much, " she murmured, half perhaps to herself, yet stillas a plea to him that he would not seek to hurry her from the place. 

Harry turned away, again with that despair on him. She gave himpermission to go, but he could not leave her--neither her nor now theroom. Yet he was afraid that he could not answer for himself if hestayed. It was too strange that every association, and every tradition, and every emotion which had through all the years seemed to justify andeven to sanctify his own position and the means he was taking topreserve it, should in two or three days begin to desert him, and shouldnow in this hour openly range themselves against him and on her side; sothat all he invoked to aid him pleaded for her, all that he had prayedto bless him and his enterprise blessed her and cursed the work to whichhe had put his hand. 

Which of them could best face the world without Blent? Which of themcould best look the world in the face having Blent? These were thequestions that rose in his mind with tempestuous insistence. 

"I could sit here forever, " she murmured, a lazy enjoyment succeeding tothe agile movements of her body and the delighted agitation of hernerves. "It just suits me to sit here, cousin Harry. Looking like agreat lady!" Her eyes challenged him to deny that she looked the part toperfection. She glanced through the window. "I met that funny littleMadame Zabriska who lives up at Merrion Lodge to-day. She seems veryanxious to know all about us. "

"Madame Zabriska has a healthy--or unhealthy--curiosity. " The mention ofMina was a fresh prick. Mina knew; suddenly he hated that she shouldknow. 

"Is she in love with you?" asked Cecily, mockingly yet languidly, indeedas a great lady might inquire about the less exalted, condescending tobe amused. 

"Nobody's in love with me, not even the girl who's going to marry me. "

"To marry you?" She sat up, looking at him. "Are you engaged?"

"Yes, to Janie Iver. You know who I mean?"

"Yes, I know. You're going to be married to her?"

"I asked her a week ago. To-day she wrote to say she'd have me. " He wason his feet even as he spoke. "To marry me and to marry all this, youknow. "

She was too sympathetic to waste breath on civil pretences. 

"To be mistress here? To own this? To be Lady Tristram of Blent?"

"Yes. To have what--what I'm supposed to have, " said he. 

Cecily regarded him intently for another moment. Then she sank backinto Addie Tristram's great arm-chair, asking, "Will she do it well?"

"No, " said Harry. "She's a good sort, but she won't do it well. "

Cecily sighed and turned her head toward the window. 

"Why do you do it? Do you care for her?"

"I like her. And I want money. She's very rich. Money might be useful tome. "

"You seem very rich. Why do you want money?"

"I might want it. "

There was silence for a moment. "Well, I hope you'll be happy, " she saidpresently. 

She herself was the reason--the embodied reason (was reason ever morefairly embodied?), why he was going to marry Janie Iver. Themonstrousness of it rose before his mind. When he told of hisengagement, there had been for an instant a look in her eyes. Wonder itwas at least. Was it disappointment? Was it at all near toconsternation? She sat very still now; her gayety was gone. She was likeAddie Tristram still, but like Addie when the hard world used her ill, when there were aches to be borne and sins to be reckoned with. As hewatched her, yet another new thing came upon him, or a thing that seemedto be as new as the last quarter chimed by the old French clock on themantel-piece, and yet might date back so long as three days ago. Evennow it hardly reached consciousness, certainly did not attainexplicitness. It was still rather than Janie was no mistress for Blentand that this girl was the ideal. It was Blent still rather thanhimself, Blent's mistress rather than his. But it was enough to set anew edge on his questioning. Was he to be the man--he who looked on hernow and saw how fair she was--was he to be the man to deny her her own, to rob her of her right, to parade before the world in the trappingswhich were hers? It was all so strange, so overwhelming. He dropped intoa chair by him and pressed his hand across his brow. A low murmur, almost a groan, escaped him in the tumult of his soul. "My God!" hewhispered, in a whisper that seemed to echo through the room. 

"Harry! Are you unhappy?" In an instant she was by him. "What is it? Idon't understand. You tell me you're engaged, and you look so unhappy. Why do you marry her if you don't love her? Are you giving her allthis--and yourself--you yourself--without loving her? Dear Harry--yes, you've been very good to me--dear Harry, why?"

"Go back, " he said. "Go back to your chair. Go and sit there. "

With wonder in her eyes and a smile fresh-born on her lips she obeyedhim. 

"Well?" she said. "You're very odd. But--why?"

"I'm marrying her for Blent's sake--and I think she's marrying me forBlent's sake. "

"I call that horrible. "

"No. " He sprang to his feet. "If Blent was yours, what would you do tokeep it?"

"Everything, " she answered. "Everything--except sell myself, Harry. "

She was superb. By a natural instinct, all affectation forgotten, shehad thrown herself into Addie Tristram's attitude. There was the head onthe bend of the arm, there was the dainty foot stuck out. There was allthe defiance of a world insensate to love, greedy to find sin, dull tosee grace and beauty, blind to a woman's self while it cavilled at awoman's deeds. 

"Everything except sell yourself?" he repeated, his eyes set on herface. 

"Yes--_Per Ensem Justitia!_" she laughed. "But not lies, and not buyingand selling, Harry. "

"My word is given. I must marry her now. "

"Better fling Blent away!" she flashed out in a brilliant indignation. 

"And if I did that?"

"A woman would love you for yourself, " she cried, leaning forward to himwith hands clasped. 

Again he rose and paced the length of the Long Gallery. The moment wascome. There was a great alliance against him. He fought still. At everystep he took he came to something that still was his, that he prized, that he loved, that meant much to him, that typified his position asTristram of Blent. A separate pang waited on every step, a great agonyrose in him with the thought that he might be walking this room as itsmaster for the last time. Yes, it had come to that. For against all, threatening to conquer all, was the girl who sat in his mother's chair, her very body asserting the claim that her thoughts did not know and hermouth could not utter. And yet his mood had affected her. The upturnedeyes were full of excitement, the parted lips waited for a word fromhim. Mina Zabriska had left her terrace and gone to bed, declaring thatshe was still on Harry's side; but she was not with him in this fight. 

He returned to Cecily and stood by her. The sympathy between them kepther still; she watched, she waited. For minutes he was silent; allthought of time was gone. Now she knew that he had something great tosay. Was it that he would and could have no more to do with Janie Iver, that another had come, that his word must go, and that he loved her? Shecould hardly believe that. It was so short a time since he had seen her. Yet why could it not be true of him, if it were true of her? And was itnot? Else why did she hang on his words and keep her eyes on his? Elsewhy was it so still in the room, as though the world too waited forspeech from his lips?

"I can't do it!" burst from him suddenly. "By God, I can't do it!"

"What, Harry?" The words were no more than breathed. He came right up toher and caught her by the arm. 

"You see all that--everything here? You love it?"

"Yes. "

"As much as I do? As much as I do?" His self-control was gone. She madeno answer; she could not understand. 

With an effort he mastered himself. 

"Yes, you love it, " he said, and a smile came on his face. "I'm glad youlove it. As God lives, unless you'd loved it, I'd have spoken not a wordof this. But you're one of us, you're a Tristram. I don't know the realrights of it, but I'll run no risk of cheating a Tristram. You love itall?"

"Yes, yes, Harry. But why, dear Harry, why?"

"Why? Because it's yours. "

He let go her hand and reeled back a step. 

"Mine? What do you mean?" she cried. Still the idea, the wild idea, thathe offered it with himself was in her mind. 

"It's yours, not mine--it's never been mine. You're the owner of it. You're Tristram of Blent. "

"I--I Tristram of Blent?" She was utterly bewildered. For he was not alover--no lover ever spoke like that. 

"Yes, I say, yes. " His voice rose imperiously as it pronounced the wordsthat threw away his rule. "You're Lady Tristram of Blent. "

She did not understand; yet she believed. He spoke so that he must bebelieved. 

"This is all yours--yours--yours. You're Tristram of Blent. "

She rose to her height, and stood facing him. 

"And you? And you?"

"I? I'm--Harry. "

"Harry? Harry? Harry what?"

He smiled as he looked at her; as his eyes met hers he smiled. 

"Harry what? Harry Nothing, " he said. "Harry Nothing-at-all. "

He turned and left her alone in the room. She sank back into the greatarm-chair where Addie Tristram had been wont to sit. 

XIV

THE VERY SAME DAY

"Shall I wait up, my lord? Miss Gainsborough has gone to her room. I'veturned out the lights and shut up the house. "

Harry looked at the clock in the study. It was one o'clock. 

"I thought you'd gone to bed long ago, Mason. " He rose and stretchedhimself. "I'm going to town early in the morning. I shan't want anybreakfast and I shan't take anybody with me. Tell Fisher to pack myportmanteau--things for a few days--and send it to Paddington. I'll haveit fetched from there. Tell him to be ready to follow me, if I send forhim. "

"Yes, my lord. "

"Give that letter to Miss Gainsborough in the morning. " He handed Masona thick letter. Two others lay on the table. After a moment's apparenthesitation Harry put them in his pocket. "I'll post them myself, " hesaid. "When did Miss Gainsborough go to her room?"

"About an hour back, my lord. "

"Did she stay in the Long Gallery till then?"

"Yes, my lord. "

"I may be away a little while, Mason. I hope Miss Gainsborough--and MrGainsborough too--will be staying on some time. Make them comfortable. "

Not a sign of curiosity or surprise escaped Mason. His "Yes, my lord, "was just the same as though Harry had ordered an egg for breakfast. Sudden comings and goings had always been the fashion of the house. 

"All right. Good-night, Mason. "

"Good-night, my lord. " Mason looked round for something to carryoff--the force of habit--found nothing, and retired noiselessly. 

"One o'clock!" sighed Harry. "Ah, I'm tired. I won't go to bed though, Icouldn't sleep. "

He moved restlessly about the room. His flood of feeling had gone by;for the time the power of thought too seemed to have deserted him. Hehad told Cecily everything; he had told Janie enough; he had yielded toan impulse to write a line to Mina Zabriska--because she had been somixed up in it all. The documents that were to have proved his claimmade a little heap of ashes in the grate. 

All this had been two hours' hard work. But after all two hours is notlong to spend in getting rid of an old life and entering on a new. Hefound himself rather surprised at the simplicity of the process. Whatwas there left to do? He had only to go to London and see his lawyer--aninterview easy enough for him, though startling no doubt to the lawyer. Cecily would be put into possession of her own. There was nothingsensational. He would travel a bit perhaps, or just stay in town. He hadmoney enough to live on quietly or to use in making more; for hismother's savings were indubitably his, left to him by a will in whichhe, the real Harry, was so expressly designated by his own fullname--even more than that--as "Henry Austen Fitzhubert Tristram, otherwise Henry Austen Fitzhubert, my son by the late Captain AustenFitzhubert"--that no question of his right could arise. That money wouldnot go with the title. Only Blent and all the realty passed with that;the money was not affected by the date of his birth; that must beexplained to Cecily by his lawyer or perhaps she would expect to getit. For the moment there was nothing to do but to go to London--and thenperhaps travel a bit. He smiled for an instant; it certainly struck himas rather an anti-climax. He threw himself on a sofa and, in spite ofhis conviction that he could not sleep, dozed off almost directly. 

It was three when he awoke; he went up to his room, had a bath, shaved, and put on a tweed suit. Coming down to the study again, he opened theshutters and looked out. It would be light soon, and he could go away. He was fretfully impatient of staying. He drank some whiskey andsoda-water, and smoked a cigar as he walked up and down. Yes, there weresigns of dawn now; the darkness lifted over the hill on which Merrionstood. 

Merrion! Yes, Merrion. And the Major? Well, Duplay had not frightenedhim, Duplay had not turned him out. He was going of his own will--of hisown act anyhow, for he could not feel so sure about the will. But forthe first time it struck him that his abdication might accrue to theMajor's benefit, that he had won for Duplay the prize which he was surethe gallant officer could not have achieved for himself. "I'll be hangedif I do that, " he muttered. "Yes, I know what I'll do, " he added, smiling. 

He got his hat and stick and went out into the garden. The windows ofthe Long Gallery were all dark. Harry smiled again and shook his fist atthem. There was no light in Cecily's window. He was glad to think thatthe girl slept; if he were tired she must be terribly tired too. He wasquite alone--alone with the old place for the last time. He walked towhere he had sat with Cecily, where his mother used to sit. He was easyin his mind about his mother. When she had wanted him to keep the houseand the name, she had no idea of the true state of the case. And infact she herself had done it all by requesting him to invite theGainsboroughs to her funeral. That was proof enough that he had notwronged her; in the mood he was in it seemed quite proof enough. Realities were still a little dim to him, and fancies rather real. Hisoutward calmness of manner had returned, but his mind was not in anormal state. Still he was awake enough to the every-day world and tohis ordinary feelings to remain very eager that his sacrifice should notturn to the Major's good. 

He started at a brisk walk to the little bridge, reached the middle ofit, and stopped short. The talk he had had with Mina Zabriska at thisvery spot came back into his mind. "The blood, not the law!" he hadsaid. Well, it was to the blood he had bowed and not to the law. He wasstrong about not having been frightened by the law. Nor had he beendispossessed, he insisted on that too. He had given; he had chosen togive. He made a movement as though to walk on, but for a moment he couldnot. When it came to going, for an instant he could not go. The partingwas difficult. He had no discontent with what he had done; on the wholeit seemed far easier than he could ever have imagined. But it was hardto go, to leave Blent just as the slowly growing day brought into sightevery outline that he knew so well, and began to warm the gardens intolife. "I should rather like to stay a day, " was his thought, as helingered still. But the next moment he was across the bridge, slammingthe gate behind him and beginning to mount the road up the valley. Hehad heard a shutter thrown open and a window raised; the sound came fromthe wing where Cecily slept. He did not want to see her now; he did notwish her to see him. She was to awake to undivided possession, free fromany reminder of him. That was his fancy, his idea of making his gift toher of what was hers more splendid and more complete. But she did seehim; she watched him from her window as he walked away up the valley. Hedid not know; true to his fancy, he never turned his head. 

Bob Broadley was an early riser, as his business in life demanded. Atsix o'clock he was breakfasting in a bright little room opening on hisgarden. He was in the middle of his rasher when a shadow fell across hisplate. Looking up, he started to see Harry Tristram at the doorway. 

"Lord Tristram!" he exclaimed. 

"You've called me Tristram all your life. I should think you mightstill, " observed Harry. 

"Oh, all right. But what brings you here? These aren't generally yourhours, are they?"

"Perhaps not. May I have some breakfast?"

The maid was summoned and brought him what he asked. She nearly droppedthe cup and saucer when she realized that the Great Man was there--atsix in the morning!

"I'm on my way to London, " said Harry. "Going to take the train atFillingford instead of Blentmouth, because I wanted to drop in on you. I've something to say. "

"I expect I've heard. It's very kind of you to come, but I saw JanieIver in Blentmouth yesterday. "

"I dare say; but she didn't tell you what I'm going to. "

Harry, having made but a pretence of breakfasting, pushed away hisplate. "I'll smoke if you don't mind. You go on eating, " he said. "Doyou remember a little talk we had about our friend Duplay? We agreedthat we should both like to put a spoke in his wheel. "

"And you've done it, " said Bob, reaching for his pipe from themantel-piece. 

"I did do it. I can't do it any more. You know there were certainreasons which made a marriage between Janie Iver and me seem desirable?I'm saying nothing against her, and I don't intend to say a word againstmyself. Well, those reasons no longer exist. I have written to her tosay so. She'll get that letter this afternoon. "

"You've written to break off the engagement?" Bob spoke slowly andthoughtfully, but with no great surprise. 

"Yes. She accepted me under a serious misapprehension. When I asked herI was in a position to which I had no----" He interrupted himself, frowning a little. Not even now was he ready to say that. "In a positionwhich I no longer occupy, " he amended, recovering his placidity. "Allthe world will know that very soon. I am no longer owner of Blent. "

"What?" cried Bob, jumping up and looking hard at Harry. The surprisecame now. 

"And I am no longer what you called me just now--Lord Tristram. You knowthe law about succeeding to peerages and entailed lands? Very well. Mybirth has been discovered [he smiled for an instant] not to satisfy thatlaw--the merits of which, Bob, we won't discuss. Consequently not I, butMiss Gainsborough succeeds my mother in the title and the property. Ihave informed Miss Gainsborough--I ought to say Lady Tristram--of thesefacts, and I'm on my way to London to see the lawyers and get everythingdone in proper order. "

"Good God, do you mean what you say?"

"Oh, of course I do. Do you take me for an idiot, to come up here at sixin the morning to talk balderdash?" Harry was obviously irritated. "Everybody will know soon. I came to tell you because I fancy you'vesome concern in it, and, as I say, I still want that spoke put in theMajor's wheel. "

Bob sat down and was silent for many moments, smoking hard. 

"But Janie won't do that, " he broke out at last. "She's too straight, too loyal. If she's accepted you----"

"A beautiful idea, Bob, if she was in love with me. But she isn't. Canyou tell me you think she is?"

Bob grunted inarticulately--an obvious, though not a skilful, evasion ofthe question. 

"And anyhow, " Harry pursued, "the thing's at an end. I shan't marry her. Now if that suggests any action on your part I--well, I shall be glad Icame to breakfast. " He got up and went to the window, looking out on theneat little garden and to the paddock beyond. 

In a moment Bob Broadley's hand was laid on his shoulder. He turned andfaced him. 

"What a thing for you! You--you lose it all?"

"I have given it all up. "

"I can't realize it, you know. The change----"

"Perhaps I can't either. I don't know that I want to, Bob. "

"Who made the discovery? How did it come out? Nobody ever had anysuspicion of it!"

Harry looked at him long and thoughtfully, but in the end he only shookhis head, saying, "Well, it's true anyhow. "

"It beats me. I see what you mean about myself and--Still I give you myword I hate its happening. Who's this girl? Why is she to come here? Whoknows anything about her?"

"You don't, of course, " Harry conceded with a smile. "No more did I aweek ago. "

"Couldn't you have made a fight for it?"

"Yes, a deuced good fight. But I chose to let it go. Now don't go onlooking as if you didn't understand the thing. It's simple enough. "

"But Lady Tristram--your mother--must have known----"

"The question didn't arise as long as my mother lived, " said Harryquickly. "Her title was all right, of course. "

There was another question on the tip of Bob's tongue, but after aglance at Harry's face he did not put it; he could not ask Harry if hehad known. 

"I'm hanged!" he muttered. 

"Yes, but you understand why I came here?"

"Yes. That was kind. "

"Oh, no. I want to spike the Major's guns, you know. " He laughed alittle. "And--well, yes, I think I'm promoting the general happinesstoo, if you must know. Now I'm off, Bob. "

He held out his hand and Bob grasped it. "We'll meet again some day, when things have settled down. Beat Duplay for me, Bob. Good-by. "

"That's grit, real grit, " muttered Bob, as he returned to the houseafter seeing Harry Tristram on his way. 

It was that--or else the intoxication of some influence whose power hadnot passed away. Whatever it was, it had a marked effect on BobBroadley. There was an appearance of strength and resolution aboutit--as of a man knowing what he meant to do and doing it. As heinspected his pigs an hour later, Bob came to the conclusion that hehimself was a poor sort of fellow. People who waited for the fruit tofall into their mouths were apt to find that a hand intervened andplucked it. That had happened to him once, and probably he could nothave helped it; but he meant to try to prevent its happening again. Hewas in a ferment all the morning, partly on his own account, as muchabout the revolution which had suddenly occurred in the little kingdomon the banks of the Blent. 

In the afternoon he had his gig brought round and set out forBlentmouth. As he passed Blent Hall, he saw a girl on the bridge--a girlin black looking down at the water. Lady Tristram? It was strange tocall her by the title that had been another's. But he supposed it mustbe Lady Tristram. She did not look up as he passed; he retained a visionof the slack dreariness of her pose. Going on, he met the Iver carriage;Iver and Neeld sat in it, side by side; they waved their hands incareless greeting and went on talking earnestly. On the outskirts of thetown he came on Miss Swinkerton and Mrs Trumbler walking together. As heraised his hat, a dim and wholly inadequate idea occurred to him of theexcitement into which these good ladies would soon be thrown, aforeshadowing of the wonder, the consternation, the questionings, thebubbling emotions which were soon to stir the quiet backwaters of thevillas of Blentmouth. For himself, what was he going to do? He could nottell. He put up his gig at the inn and sauntered out into the street;still he could not tell. But he wandered out to Fairholme, up to thegate, and past it, and back to it, and past it again. 

Now would Harry Tristram do that? No; either he would never have come orhe would have been inside before this. Bob's new love of boldness didnot let him consider whether this was the happiest moment for itsdisplay. Those learned in the lore of such matters would probably haveadvised him to let her alone for a few days, or weeks, or months, according to the subtilty of their knowledge or their views. Bob rangthe bell. 

Janie was not denied to him, but only because no chance was given to herof denying herself. A footman, unconscious of convulsions external orinternal, showed him into the morning-room. But Janie's own attitude wasplain enough in her reception of him. 

"Oh, Bob, why in the world do you come here to-day? Indeed I can't talkto you to-day. " Her dismay was evident. "If there's nothing veryparticular----"

"Well, you know there is, " Bob interrupted. 

She turned her head quickly toward him. "I know there is? What do youmean?"

"You've got Harry Tristram's letter, I suppose?"

"What do you know of Harry Tristram's letter?"

"I haven't seen it, but I know what's in it all the same. "

"How do you know?"

"He came up to Mingham to-day and told me. " Bob sat down by her, uninvited; certainly the belief in boldness was carrying him far. But hedid not quite anticipate the next development. She sprang up, sprangaway from his neighborhood, crying, "Then how dare you come here to-day? Yes, I've got the letter--just anhour ago. Have you come to--to triumph over me?"

"What an extraordinary idea!" remarked Bob in the slow tones of agenuine astonishment. 

"You'd call it to condole, I suppose! That's rather worse. "

Bob confined himself to a long look at her. It brought him noenlightenment. 

"You must see that you're the very----" She broke off abruptly, and, turning away, began to walk up and down. 

"The very what?" asked Bob. 

She turned and looked at him; she broke into a peevishly nervous laugh. Anybody but Bob--really anybody but Bob--would have known! The laughencouraged him a little, which again it had no right to do. 

"I thought you'd be in trouble, and like a bit of cheering up, " he saidwith a diplomatic air that was ludicrously obvious. 

She considered a moment, taking another turn about the room to do it. 

"What did Harry Tristram say to you?"

"Oh, he told me the whole thing. That--that he's chucked it up, youknow. "

"I mean about me. "

"He didn't say much about you. Just that it was all ended, you know. "

"Did he think I should accept his withdrawal?"

"Yes, he seemed quite sure of it, " answered Bob. "I had my doubts, buthe seemed quite sure of it. " Apparently Bob considered his statementreassuring and comforting. 

"You had your doubts?"

"Yes. I thought perhaps----"

"You were wrong then, and Harry Tristram was right. " She flung the wordsat him in a fierce hostility. "Now he's not Lord Tristram any longer, Idon't want to marry him. " She paused. "You believe he isn't, don't you?There's no doubt?"

"I believe him all right. He's a fellow you can rely on. "

"But it's all so strange. Why has he done it? Well, that doesn't matter. At any rate he's right about me. "

Bob sat stolidly in his chair. He did not know at all what to say, buthe did not mean to go. He had put no spoke in the Major's wheel yet, and to do that was his contract with Harry Tristram, as well as his ownstrong desire. 

"Have you sympathized--or condoled--or triumphed--enough?" she asked;she was fierce still. 

"I don't know that I've had a chance of saying anything much, " heobserved with some justice. 

"I really don't see what you can have to say. What is there to say?"

"Well, there's just this to say--that I'm jolly glad of it. "

She was startled by his blunt sincerity, so startled that she passed theobvious chance of accusing him of cruelty toward Harry Tristram, andthought only of how his words touched herself. 

"Glad of it! Oh, if you knew how it makes me feel about myself! But youdon't, or you'd never be here now. "

"Why shouldn't I be here now?" He spoke slowly, as though he werehimself searching for any sound reason. 

"Oh, it's----" The power of explanation failed her. People who will notsee obvious things sometimes hold a very strong position. Janie began tofeel rather helpless. "Do go. I don't want anybody to come and find youhere. " She had turned from command to entreaty. 

"I'm jolly glad, " he resumed, settling himself back in his chair, "thatthe business between you and Harry Tristram's all over. It ought neverto have gone so far, you know. "

"Are you out of your mind to-day, Bob?"

"And now, what about the Major, Miss Janie?"

She flushed red in indignation, perhaps in guilt too. "How dare you?You've no business to----"

"I don't know the right way to say things, I dare say, " he admitted, but with an abominable tranquillity. "Still I expect you know what Imean all the same. "

"Do you accuse me of having encouraged Major Duplay?"

"I should say you'd been pretty pleasant to him. But it's not mybusiness to worry myself about Duplay. "

"I wish you always understood as well what isn't your business. "

"And it isn't what you have done but what you're going to do that I'minterested in. " He paused several moments and then went on very slowly, "I tell you what it is. I'm not very proud of myself. So if you happento be feeling the same, why that's all right, Miss Janie. The fact is, Ilet Harry Tristram put me in a funk, you know. He was a swell, and he'sgot a sort of way about him too. But I'm hanged if I'm going to be in afunk of Duplay. " He seemed to ask her approval of the proposed firmnessof his attitude. "I've been a bit of an ass about it all, I think, " heconcluded with an air of thoughtful inquiry. 

The opening was irresistible. Janie seized it with impetuouscarelessness. "Yes, you have, you have indeed. Only I don't see why youthink it's over, I'm sure. "

"Well, I'm glad you agree with me, " said he. But he seemed now ratheruncertain how he ought to go on. "That's what I wanted to say, " headded, and looked at her as if he thought she might give him a lead. 

The whole thing was preposterous; Janie was bewildered. He had outragedall decency in coming at such a moment and in talking like this. Thenhaving got (by such utter disregard of all decency) to a point at whichhe could not possibly stop, he stopped! He even appeared to ask her togo on for him! She stood still in the middle of the room, looking at himas he sat squarely in his chair. 

"Since you've said what you wanted to say, I should think you might go. "

"Yes, I suppose I might, but----" He was puzzled. He had said what hewanted to say, or thought he had, but it had failed to produce thesituation he had anticipated from it. If he went now, leaving mattersjust as they stood, could he be confident that the spoke was in thewheel? Up to now nothing was really agreed upon except that he himselfhad been an ass. No doubt this was a pregnant conclusion, but Bob wasnot quite clear exactly how much it involved; while it encouraged him, it left him still doubtful. "But don't you think you might tell me whatyou think about it?" he asked in the end. 

"I think I'm not fit to live, " cried Janie. "That's what I think aboutit, Bob. " Her voice trembled; she was afraid she might cry soon ifsomething did not happen to relieve the strain of this interview. "Andyou saw what Harry thought by his sending me that letter. The verymoment it happened, he sent me that letter!"

"I saw what he thought pretty well, anyhow, " said Bob, smilingreflectively again. 

"Oh, yes, if that makes it any better for me!"

"Well, if he's not miserable, I don't see why you need be. "

"The things you don't see would fill an encyclopædia!"

Bob looked at his watch; the action seemed in the nature of anultimatum; his glance from the watch to Janie heightened the impression. 

"You've nothing more to say?" he asked her. 

"No. I agreed with what you said--that you'd been--an ass. I don't knowthat you've said anything else. "

"All right. " He got up and came to her, holding out his hand. "Good-byfor the present, then. "

She took his hand--and she held it. She could not let it go. Bob allowedit to lie in hers. 

"Oh, dear old Bob, I'm so miserable; I hate myself for having done it, and I hate myself worse for being so glad it's undone. It did seem besttill I did it. No, I suppose I really wanted the title and--and allthat. I do hate myself! And now--the very same day--I let you----"

"You haven't let me do much, " he suggested consolingly. 

"Yes, I have. At least----" She came a little nearer to him. He tookhold of her other hand. He drew her to him and held her in his arms. 

"That's all right, " he remarked, still in tones of consolation. 

"If anybody knew this! You won't say a word, will you, Bob? Not for everso long? You will pretend it was ever so long before I--I mean, between----?"

"I'll tell any lie, " said Bob very cheerfully. 

She laughed hysterically. "Because I should never be able to look peoplein the face if anybody knew that on the very same day----"

"I should think a--a week would be about right?"

"A week! No, no. Six months. "

"Oh, six months be----"

"Well then, three? Do agree to three. "

"We'll think about three. Still miserable, Janie?"

"Yes, still--rather. Now you must go. Fancy if anybody came!"

"All right, I'll go. But, I say, you might just drop a hint to theMajor. "

"I can't send him another message that I'm--that I've done it again!"

She drew a little away from him. Bob's hearty laugh rang out; his latentsense of humor was touched at the idea of this second communication tothe Major. For a moment Janie looked angry, for a moment deeply hurt. Bob laughed still. There was nothing for it but to join in. Her ownlaugh rang out gayly as he caught her in his arms again and kissed her. 

"Oh, if anybody knew!" sighed Janie. 

But Bob was full of triumph. The task was done, the spoke was in thewheel. There was an end of the Major as well as of Harry--and an end tohis own long and not very hopeful waiting. He kissed his love again. 

There was a sudden end to the scene too--startling and sudden. The doorof the room opened abruptly, and in the doorway stood Mrs Iver. Littleneed to dilate on the situation as it appeared to Mrs Iver! Had sheknown the truth, the thing was bad enough. But she knew nothing of HarryTristram's letter. After a moment of consternation Janie ran to her, crying, "I'm not engaged any more to Harry Tristram, mother!"

Mrs Iver said nothing. She stood by the open door. There was nomistaking her meaning. With a shame-faced bow, struggling with anunruly smile, Bob Broadley got through it somehow. Janie was left alonewith Mrs Iver. 

Such occurrences as these are very deplorable. Almost of necessity theyimpair a daughter's proper position of superiority and put her in arelation toward her mother which no self-respecting young woman woulddesire to occupy. It might be weeks before Janie Iver could reallyassert her dignity again. It was strong proof of her affection for BobBroadley that, considering the matter in her own room (she had not beenexactly sent there, but a retreat had seemed advisable) she came to theconclusion that, taking good and bad together, she was on the whole gladthat he had called. 

But to Bob, with the selfishness of man, Mrs Iver's sudden appearancewore rather an amusing aspect. It certainly could not spoil his triumphor impair his happiness. 

XV

AN INQUISITION INTERRUPTED

"My mother told it me just as a bit of gossip. She didn't believe it, nomore did I. "

"But you repeated it. "

It was Iver who was pressing her. He was not now the kind host Mina knewso well. He was rather the keen man of business, impatient of shuffling, incredulous of any action for which he could not see the motive, distrustful and very shrewd. 

"Oh, I repeated it to my uncle, because I thought it might amusehim--just for something to say. "

"Your idea of small talk is rather peculiar, " was Iver's dry comment. Helooked at the Major on his right, and at Neeld on his left at the table;Mina was opposite, like the witness before the committee. 

"So is yours of politeness, " she cried. "It's my house. Why do you comeand bully me in it?"

Duplay was sullenly furious. Poor Mr Neeld's state was lamentable. Hehad not spoken a word throughout the interview. He had taken refuge innodding, exhausting the significance of nods in reply to the variousappeals that the other three addressed to him. If their meaning had beendeveloped, his nods must have landed him in a pitiable mess ofinconsistencies; he had tried to agree with everybody, to sympathize allround, to indorse universally. He had won momentary applause, and in theend created general dissatisfaction. 

Iver had his temper in hand still, but he was hard and resolute. 

"You don't seem to understand the seriousness of the thing in theleast, " he said. "I've spoken plainly to you. My daughter's future is atstake. You say it was all idle gossip. I find that hard to believe. Evenif so, I must have that gossip investigated and proved to be nothing butgossip. "

"Investigate it then, " said the Imp peevishly. 

"You refuse me the materials. What you told Major Duplay was too vague. You know more. You can put me on the track. "

Mina was silent. Neeld wiped his brow with his handkerchief. Iverchanged his tone. 

"Mina, we've been friends to you. I'm not ashamed to remind you of it. Janie's a great friend of yours; my wife and I have welcomed you firstfor her sake, then for your own. Is this the best return you can makeus? Consult anybody you like, if you think I'm prejudiced, whether yourconduct is honorable, is square. " He paused a moment. "Ask Mr Neeld herewhat he would do. I'm willing to abide by his judgment. "

Mina was sorely tempted to say, "Ask him then. " The situation would thusbecome so much the more piquant. But Mr Neeld was in such distress--toher sharp eyes a distress so visible--that she did not dare to risk the_coup_. If he were let alone he might keep silence and quiet hisconscience by the plea that he had been asked no questions. But she didnot venture to face him with a demand for a verdict on her conduct; forher conduct was also his own. 

"I must judge for myself. Mr Neeld can't help me, " she answered. "Unclehas chosen to say he can prove these things. Let him try. " She drewherself up with a prim prudish air. "I don't think it's desirable to mixmyself up in such very peculiar questions at all, and I don't think it'snice of men to come and cross-question me about them. "

"Oh, we're not in a girls' school, " said Iver, with a touch ofirritation hardly suppressed. "We come as men of the world to a sensiblewoman. "

"Anybody will tell you I'm not that, " interrupted the Imp. 

"Well, then, to a woman of good feeling, who wishes to be honest and tobe true to her friends. Duplay, have you no influence with MadameZabriska?"

"I've spared no effort, " replied the Major. "I can't believe that shewon't help us in the end. " His tone was almost menacing. Mina, remembering how he had terrorized the secret out of her before, andresenting the humiliation of the memory, stiffened her neck once more. 

"I've nothing to say. You must do as you think best, " she said. 

"You must be made to speak. "

Iver's threats alarmed where Duplay's only annoyed. He spoke calmly andwith weight. 

"Who can make me speak?" she cried, more angry from her fear. 

"The law. When we have reached a certain stage in the inquiry, we shallbe able to compel you to speak. "

"I thought you couldn't move a step without me?"

Iver was rather set back, but he braved it out. 

"The difficulties are immensely increased, but they're not insuperable, "he said. 

"I shan't stay to be questioned and bullied. I shall go abroad. "

Iver looked at the Major; the Major returned his glance; they were bothresolute men. 

"No, you won't go away, " declared Iver slowly. 

The Imp was frightened; she was an ignorant young woman in a land ofwhose laws she knew nothing. Neeld would have liked to suggestsomething soothing about the liberty of the individual and the HabeasCorpus Act. But he dared show no sympathy--beyond nodding at herunobserved. The nod told her nothing. 

"You'll stop me?" Still she tried to sneer defiantly. 

Another glance passed between Iver and Duplay. A shrewd observer mighthave interpreted it as meaning, "Even if we can't do it, she'll think wecan. "

"We shall, " said the Major, executing the bluff on behalf of himself andhis partner. 

The Imp thought of crying--not for her uncle--which would behopeless--but for Iver. She concluded it would be hopeless there too;Iver would not heed tears in business hours, however tender-hearted hemight be in private life. So she laughed again instead. But the laughwas a failure, and Iver was sharp enough to see it. 

"In this country people aren't allowed to play fast and loose in thisfashion, " he remarked. "I'll tell you one way in which we can make youspeak. I have only to go to Lord Tristram and tell him you have spreadthese reports, that you have made and repeated these imputations on hisbirth and on his title. What will he do? Can he rest content withoutdisproving them at law? I say he can't. In those proceedings you wouldbe compelled to speak. I must assume you would tell the truth. I refuseto suppose you would commit perjury. "

"I should hold my tongue, " said Mina. 

"Then you'd be sent to prison for contempt of court. "

The bluff worked well. Mina knew nothing at all of what Harry Tristramwould do, or might do, or must do, of what the law would, or might, ormight not do, in the circumstances supposed. And Iver spoke as thoughhe knew everything, with a weighty confidence, with an admirable air ofconsidered candor. She was no match for him; she grew rather pale, herlips twitched, and her breath came quick. Tears were no longer to betreated merely as a possible policy; they threatened to occur of theirown accord. 

What wonder that a feeling of intolerable meanness attacked Mr JenkinsonNeeld? He was on the wrong side of the table, on the bench instead of inthe dock. He sat there judging; his proper place was side by side withthe criminal, in charge of the same policeman, wearing the handcuffstoo. And he had less excuse for his crime than she. He was even more inIver's debt; he had eaten his bread these weeks past; even now he waspretending to be his adviser and his witness; his deception was deeperthan hers. Besides he was not a young woman who might find excuse in theglamour of Harry's position or the attraction of Harry's eyes; he wasnot a romantic young woman; he was only a romantic old fool. He couldbear it no longer. He must speak. He could not get into the dock besideher--for that would throw away the case which she was defending sogallantly--but he must speak a word for her. 

"In my opinion, " he said nervously, but not without his usual precision, "we can carry this matter no further. Madame Zabriska declines to speak. I may say that I understand and respect the motive which I believeinspires her. She regrets her idle words. She thinks that by repeatingthem she would give them greater importance. She does not wish to assumeresponsibility. She leaves the matter in your hands, Iver. It is not heraffair; she had no reason to suppose that it would be yours. By a trainof events for which she is not accountable the question has become ofimportance to you. In her view it is for you to take your own steps. Shestands aside. "

"She's my friend, she's my daughter's friend. The question is whether mydaughter marries Lord Tristram of Blent or an impostor (whethervoluntary or involuntary) without a name, an acre, or, so far as I know, a shilling. She can help me. She stands aside. You think her right, Neeld?"

"Yes, I do, " said the old gentleman with the promptness of desperation. 

"Then your idea of friendship differs diametrically from mine. I desireno such friends as that. "

It is to be hoped that the sting of Iver's remark was somewhat mitigatedby Mina's covertly telegraphed gratitude. Yet Neeld was no happier afterhis effort than before it. A silence fell on them all. Mina glanced fromher uncle's face to Iver's. Both men were stern and gloomy. Her sense ofheroism barely supported her; things were so very uncomfortable. IfHarry could know what she suffered for him, it would be something. ButMina had an idea that Harry was thinking very little about her. Moreover, in taking sides in a controversy, perhaps the most importantpractical question is--whom has one got to live with? She had to livenot with Harry Tristram, but with that glowering uncle, Major Duplay. Agree with your enemy whiles you are in the house with him, even morethan whiles you are in the way. 

At this point--the deadlock demanded by the canons of art having beenreached by the force of circumstances and the clash of wills--enter the_Deus ex Machina_, in the shape of a pretty parlormaid in a black gownand white apron, with a bow of pink ribbon at her neck; instead of thecar, a silver salver, and on it a single letter. 

"For you, ma'am, " said the _Deus_, and with a glance at Neeld (merelybecause he was a man and a stranger) she ended her brief but momentousappearance on the stage. 

The Imp was in no mood for ceremony; one glance at the handwriting, andshe tore the envelope open eagerly. Iver was whispering to Duplay. Neeld's eyes were on the ceiling, because he did not know where else hecould direct them with any sense of safety. 

Mina read. A gasp of breath from her brought Neeld's eyes down fromtheir refuge and stayed Iver and the Major's whispered talk. She gazedfrom one to the other of them. She had flushed red; her face was veryagitated and showed a great stress of feeling. Duplay with anexclamation of surprise put out his hand for the letter. But Mina kepthers on it, pinning it immovably to the table. For another minute shesat there, facing the three. Then all composure failed her; she burstinto tears, and bowing her head to meet her arms on the table, coveringthe letter with her hair, she sobbed violently. 

The fort she had been defending was betrayed from within. For somereason unknown, unguessable, the champion she fought for had fled fromthe fight. And the few words of his message--aye, and that he shouldsend a message to her--pierced her to the heart. Strained already by herbattle, she was broken down by this sudden end to it, this sudden anddisastrous end. 

"I can't help it, I can't help it, " the men heard her say between hersobs. 

Her apology did nothing to relieve their extreme discomfort. All threefelt brutal; even the Major's face lost its gloomy fierceness andrelaxed into an embarrassed solicitude. "Ought we to call the maid?" hewhispered. "Poor child!" murmured Neeld. 

The sobs dominated these timid utterances. Was it they who had broughther to this state, or was it the letter? Iver stirred uneasily in hischair, his business manner and uncharitable shrewdness suddenly seemingout of place. "Give her time, " he said gently. "Give her time, poorgirl. "

Mina raised her head; tears ran down her cheeks; she was woepersonified. 

"Time's no use, " she groaned. "It's all over now. "

Neeld caught at the state of affairs by an intuition to which hisprevious knowledge helped him. Duplay had been baffled by Harry'sdiplomacy and expected no action from his side. To Neeld such adevelopment seemed possible, and it was the only thing which to his mindcould throw light on Mina's behavior. 

"Won't you show us the letter?" he asked gently. 

"Oh, yes. And I'll tell you anything you like now. It doesn't matternow. " She looked at Neeld; she was loyal to the end. "I was the onlyperson who knew it, " she said to Iver. 

That was too much. Timid he might be, even to the point of cowardice;but now, when the result of confession would be no harm to anybody buthimself, Neeld felt he must speak if he were to have any chance of goingon thinking himself a gentleman--and it is an unpleasant thing for a manto realize that he has none. 

"I must correct Madame Zabriska, " he said. "I knew it too. "

"What?" cried Duplay. Iver turned quick scrutinizing eyes on his friend. 

"You knew too? You knew what?" he demanded. 

"The facts we have been endeavoring to obtain from Madame Zabriska. "

"The facts about----"

"Oh, it's all in the letter, " cried Mina in a quick burst of impatience. "There it is. "

She flung it across to Iver and rested her chin on her hands, while hereyes followed his expression as he read. Duplay was all excitement, butold Mr Neeld had sunk back in his chair with a look of fretfulweariness. Iver was deliberate; his glasses needed some fitting on; thesheet of paper required some smoothing after its contact with Mina'sdisordered and disordering hair. Besides, he was really as excited asDuplay and almost as agitated as Mina herself. But these emotions arenot appropriate to business men. So he was very calm and deliberate inhis demeanor; he might have been going to deliver a whole speech fromthe way he cleared his throat. 

"I have thrown up the sponge and fled. Please make friends with LadyTristram of Blent. --H. T. "

It was enough. What need of further witness? And if there had been, theprincipal criminal had confessed and the lips of his accomplices wereunsealed. 

For a while nobody spoke. Then Neeld, leaning forward to the tableagain, began to explain and excuse his silence, to speak of the hardcase he was in, of the accidental and confidential character of hisknowledge. Neither Mina nor her uncle even appeared to heed him. Iverseemed to listen patiently and courteously, but his mind too wasdistracted, and he did not cease fidgeting with Harry Tristram's letterand referring ever and again to its brief sufficient message. 

"I dare say I was wrong. The position was very difficult, " pleadedNeeld. 

"Yes, yes, " said Iver in an absent tone. "Difficult no doubt, Neeld;both for you and Mina. And now he has--he has given up the game himself!Or was his hand forced?"

"No, " flashed out Mina, restored in a moment to animation, her fightinginstincts awake again. "He'd never have been forced. He must have doneit of his own accord. "

"But why?" Again he returned to the letter. "And why does he write toyou?"

"Because he knew I knew about it. He didn't know that Mr Neeld did. "

"And this--this Lady Tristram of Blent?" Iver's voice was hesitating andconscious as he pronounced the name that was to have become hisdaughter's. 

Again the pink-ribboned _Deus_ made entry on the scene, to give thespeaker a more striking answer. 

"A lady to see you, ma'am. Miss Gainsborough. "

The three men sprang to their feet; with a sudden wrench Mina turned herchair round toward the door. A tall slim girl in black came in with aquick yet hesitating step. 

"Forgive me, Madame Zabriska. But I had to come. Harry said you were hisfriend. Do you know anything about him? Do you know where he is?" Shelooked at the men and blushed as she returned their bow with a hurriedrecognition. 

"No, I haven't seen him. I know nothing, " said Mina. 

"The letter, Mina, " Duplay reminded her, and Mina held it out to Cecily. 

Cecily came forward, took and read it. She looked again at the group, evidently puzzled. 

"He doesn't say where he's gone, " she said. 

"You are----?" Iver began. 

"I'm Cecily Gainsborough. But I think he means me when he says LadyTristram of Blent. "

"Yes, he must mean you, Miss Gainsborough. "

"Yes, because last night he told me--it was so strange, but he wouldn'thave done it unless it was true--he told me that he wasn't Lord Tristramreally, and that I----" Her eyes travelled quickly over their faces, and she re-read the letter. "Do you know anything about it?" shedemanded imperiously. "Tell me, do you know what he means by this letterand whether what he says is true?"

"We know what he means, " answered Iver gravely, "and we know that it'strue. "

"Have you known it long?" she asked. 

Iver glanced at Duplay and Neeld. It was Neeld who answered gently:"Some of us have been sure of it for some time. But----" He looked atMina before he went on. "But we didn't intend to speak. "

Cecily stood there, seeming to consider and for a moment meeting Mina'sintense gaze which had never left her face. 

"Had he known for long?" was her next question. 

It met with no immediate answer. Duplay rose abruptly and walked to themantelpiece; he leant his arm on it and turned half away from the groupat the table. 

"Had he known for long?" Cecily repeated. 

"Ever so long, " answered Mina Zabriska in a low voice, but veryconfidently. 

"Ah, he was waiting till Lady Tristram died?"

Iver nodded; he thought what she suggested a very good explanation toaccept. It was plausible and sensible; it equipped Harry Tristram with adecent excuse for his past silence, and a sound reason for the moment ofhis disclosure. He looked at Neeld and found ready acquiescence in theold gentleman's approving nod. But Mina broke out impatiently--

"No, no, that had nothing to do with it. He never meant to speak. Blentwas all the world to him. He never meant to speak. " A quick remembranceflashed across her. "Were you with him in the Long Gallery last night?"she cried. "With him there for hours?"

"Yes, we were there. "

"Yes, I saw you from the terrace here. Did he tell you there?"

"He told me there. " There was embarrassment as well as wonder in hermanner now. 

"Well then, you must know why he told you. We don't know. " Mina was verypeevish. 

"Is it any use asking----?" Iver began. An unceremoniously impatient andperemptory wave of Mina's arm reduced him to silence. Her curiosity leftno room for his prudent counsels of reticence. 

"What were you doing in the Gallery?" demanded Mina. 

"I was looking at all the things there and--and admiring them. He cameup presently and--I don't remember that he said very much. He watchedme; then he asked me if I loved the things. And--well, then he told me. He told me and went straight out of the room. I waited a long while, buthe didn't come back, and I haven't spoken to him since. " She looked ateach of them in turn as though someone might be able to help her withthe puzzle. 

"Somehow you made him do it--you, " said Mina Zabriska. 

Slowly Cecily's eyes settled on Mina's face; thus she stood silent for afull minute. 

"Yes, I think so. I think I must have somehow. " Her voice rose as sheasked with a sudden access of agitation, "But what are we to do now?"

Mina had no thought for that; it was the thing itself that engrossedher, not the consequences. 

"There will, of course, be a good many formalities, " said Iver. "Subjectto those, I imagine that the--er--question settles itself. "

His phrase seemed to give Cecily no enlightenment. 

"Settles itself?" she repeated. 

"Subject to formal proof, I mean, and in the absence of opposition from"(he hesitated a second) "--from Mr Tristram, which can't be anticipatednow, you will be put into possession of the estates and the title. " Hepointed to Harry's letter which was still in her hands. "You see what hehimself calls you there, Miss Gainsborough. "

She made no answer. With another glance at Neeld, Iver pushed back hischair and rose. Neeld followed his example. They felt that the interviewhad better end. Duplay did not move, and Cecily stood where she was. Sheseemed to ask what was to be done with her; her desolation was sad, butit had something of the comic in it. She was so obviously lost. 

"You might walk down to Blent with Miss Gainsborough, Mina, " Iversuggested. 

"No, " cried the Imp in a passion, leaping up from her chair. "I don'twant to have anything to do with her. "

Cecily started and her cheeks flushed red as though she had been struck. Iver looked vexed and ashamed. 

"It's all her fault that Harry Tristram's--that Harry Tristram's----"The Imp's voice was choked; she could get no further. 

Old Mr Neeld came forward. He took Harry's letter from Cecily and gaveit to Mina. 

"My dear, my dear!" he said gently, as he patted her hand. "Read thatagain. "

Mina read, and then scrutinized Cecily keenly. 

"Well, I'll walk down with you, " she said grudgingly. She came nearer toCecily. "I wonder what you did!" she exclaimed, scanning her face. "Imust find out what you did!"

Iver came forward. "I must introduce myself to you, Miss Gainsborough. Ilive at Blentmouth, and my name is Iver. "

"Iver!" She looked at him curiously. At once he felt that she hadknowledge of the relation between his daughter and Harry Tristram. 

"Yes, and since we shall probably be neighbors----" He held out hishand. She put hers into it, still with a bewildered air. Neeld contentedhimself with a bow as he passed her, and Duplay escaped from the roomwith a rapidity and stillness suggestive of a desire not to be observed. When the men were gone Cecily sank into a chair and covered her facewith her hands for a minute. She looked up to find Mina regarding her, still with mingled inquisitiveness and hostility. 

"What were you all doing here when I came?" asked Cecily. 

"They were trying to make me tell what I knew about Harry Tristram. ButI wouldn't tell. "

"Wouldn't you?" Cecily's eyes sparkled in sudden approval, and she brokeinto a smile. "I like you for that, " she cried. "I wouldn't have toldeither. "

"But now!" The Imp pouted disconsolately. "Well, it's not your fault, Isuppose, and----" She walked up to Cecily and gave her a brief butfriendly kiss. "And you needn't be so upset as all that about it. We'lljust talk over what we'd better do. "

There was not much prospect of their talk affecting either the laws ofEngland or the determination of Harry Tristram to any appreciableextent. But the proposal seemed to comfort Cecily; and the Imp rang thebell for tea. Coming back from this task, she gave Cecily a criticalglance. 

"You'll look it anyhow, " she concluded with a reluctant smile. 

Meanwhile Iver and Neeld drove back to Blentmouth. Iver said nothingabout his friend's bygone treachery; oddly enough it was not in theculprit's mind either. 

"Now, Neeld, to break this news to Janie!" said Iver. 

Neeld nodded once again. 

But of course a situation quite other than they expected awaited them atFairholme. 

XVI

THE NEW LIFE

"You haven't mentioned it to the young man himself?" asked LadyEvenswood. 

"Certainly not. I've only seen him once, and then he didn't talk of hisown affairs. He takes the thing very well. He's lost his position andhe's the hero of the newspapers, and he bears both afflictions quitecoolly. A lad of good balance, I think. "

"Is he agreeable?"

"Hum, I'm not sure of that. No excess of modesty, I fancy. "

"I suppose you mean he's not shy? All young men are conceited. I think Ishould like you to bring him to see me. "

For forty years such an intimation from Lady Evenswood had enjoyed therank of a command; Lord Southend received it with proper obedience. 

"The solution I spoke of has occurred to some of us, " he went on. "He'spoor now, but with that he could make a marriage. The case is veryexceptional----"

"So is what you propose, George. "

"Oh, there are precedents. It was done in the Bearsdale case. "

"There was a doubt there. " Lady Evenswood knew all about the Bearsdalecase; though it was ancient history to Southend, she had danced withboth the parties to it. 

"The House was against the marriage unanimously. " But he did not denythe doubt. 

"Well, what are you going to do?" she asked. 

"It would be necessary to approach Disney. " Southend spoke with someappearance of timidity. Mr Disney was Prime Minister. "And the truth is, none of us seemed to like the job. So John Fullcombe suggested you. "

"What brave men you are!" Her face wrinkled humorously. 

"Well, he might bite us, and he couldn't bite you--not so hard anyhow. "

"And you want me to ask for a higher rank! That wasn't done in theBearsdale case, nor in any other that I ever heard of. "

"We shouldn't press that. A barony would do. But if Disney thought thatunder the very exceptional circumstances a viscounty----"

"I don't see why you want it, " she persisted. The slight embarrassmentin Southend's manner stirred the old lady's curiosity. "It's rather oddto reward a man for his mother's----. There, I don't say a word aboutAddie. I took her to her first ball, poor girl. "

"Disney used to know her as a girl. "

"If you're relying on Robert Disney's romantic memories----" But shestopped, adding after a pause, "Well, one never knows. But again, why aviscounty?"

Driven into a corner, but evidently rather ashamed of himself, Southendexplained. 

"The viscounty would be more convenient if a match came about betweenhim and the girl. "

"What, the new Lady Tristram? Well, George, romance has taken possessionof you to-day!"

"Not at all, " he protested indignantly. "It's the obviously sensible wayout. "

"Then they can do it without a viscounty. "

"Oh, no, not without something. There's the past, you see. "

"And a sponge is wanted? And the bigger the sponge the better? And I'mto get my nose bitten off by asking Robert Disney for it? And if by amiracle he said yes, for all I know somebody else might say no!"

This dark reference to the Highest Quarters caused Southend to nodthoughtfully: they discussed the probable attitude--a theme too exaltedto be more than mentioned here. "Anyhow the first thing is to soundDisney, " continued Southend. 

"I'll think about it after I've seen the young man, " Lady Evenswoodpromised. "Have you any reason to suppose he likes his cousin?"

"None at all--except, of course, the way he's cleared out for her. "

"Yielding gracefully to necessity, I suppose?"

"Really, I doubt the necessity; and, anyhow, the gracefulness needs someexplanation in a case like this. Still I always fancied he was going tomarry another girl, a daughter of a friend of mine--Iver--you know who Imean?"

"Oh, yes. Bring Harry Tristram to see me, " said she. "Good-by, George. You're looking very well. "

"And you're looking very young. "

"Oh, I finished getting old before you were forty. "

A thought struck Southend. "You might suggest the viscounty ascontingent on the marriage. "

"I shan't suggest anything till I've seen the boy--and I won't promiseto then. "

Later in the afternoon Southend dropped in at the Imperium, where to hissurprise and pleasure he found Iver in the smoking-room. Asked how hecame to be in town, Iver explained:

"I really ran away from the cackling down at Blentmouth. All our oldladies are talking fifteen to the dozen about Harry Tristram, and LadyTristram, and me, and my family, and--well, I dare say you're in it bynow, Southend! There's an old cat named Swinkerton, who is positivelybeyond human endurance; she waylays me in the street. And Mrs Trumbler, the vicar's wife, comes and talks about Providence to my poor wife everyday. So I fled. "

"Leaving your wife behind, I suppose?"

"Oh, she doesn't mind Mrs Trumbler. But I do. "

"Well, there's a good deal of cackling up here too. But tell me aboutthe new girl. " Lord Southend did not appear to consider his own question"cackling" or as tending to produce the same. 

"I've only seen her once. She's in absolute seclusion and lets nobody inexcept Mina Zabriska--a funny little foreign woman--You don't know her. "

"I know about her, I saw it in the paper. She had something to do withit?"

"Yes. " Iver passed away from that side of the subject immediately. "Andshe's struck up a friendship with Cecily Gainsborough--Lady Tristram, Iought to say. I had a few words with the father. The poor old chapdoesn't know whether he's on his head or his heels; but as they're ofabout equal value, I should imagine, for thinking purposes, it doesn'tmuch matter. Ah, here's Neeld. He came up with me. "

The advent of Neeld produced more discussion. Yet Southend said nothingof the matter which he had brought to Lady Evenswood's attention. Discretion was necessary there. Besides he wished to know how the landlay as to Janie Iver. On that subject his friend preserved silence. 

"And the whole thing was actually in old Joe's diary!" exclaimedSouthend. 

Neeld, always annoyed at the "Joe, " admitted that the main facts hadbeen recorded in Mr Cholderton's Journal, and that he himself had knownthem when nobody else in England did--save, of course, the conspiratorsthemselves. 

"And you kept it dark? I didn't know you were as deep as that, Neeld. "He looked at the old gentleman with great amazement. 

"Neeld was in an exceedingly difficult position, " said Iver. "I've cometo see that. " He paused, looking at Southend with an amused air. "Youintroduced us to one another, " he reminded him with a smile. 

"Bless my soul, so I did! I'd forgotten. Well, it seems my fate too tobe mixed up in the affair. " Just at present, however, he was assistingfate rather actively. 

"It's everybody's. The Blent's on fire from Mingham to the sea. "

"I've seen Harry Tristram. "

"Ah, how is he?" asked Neeld. 

"Never saw a young man more composed in all my life. And he couldn't bebetter satisfied with himself if he'd turned out to be a duke. "

"We know Harry's airs, " Iver said, smiling indulgently. "But there'sstuff in him. " A note of regret came into his voice. "He treated me verybadly--I know Neeld won't admit it, but he did. Still I like him and I'dhelp him if I could. "

"Well, he atoned for anything wrong by owning up in the end, " remarkedSouthend. 

"That wasn't for my sake or for---- Well, it had nothing to do with us. As far as we were concerned he'd be at Blent to-day. It was CecilyGainsborough who did it. "

"Yes. I wonder----"

Iver rose decisively. "Look here, Southend, if you're going to doexactly what all my friends and neighbors, beginning with MissSwinkerton, are doing, I shall go and write letters. " With a nod hewalked into the next room, leaving Neeld alone with his inquisitivefriend. Southend lost no time. 

"What's happened about Janie Iver? There was some talk----"

"It's all over, " whispered Neeld with needless caution. "He releasedher, and she accepted the release. "

"What, on the ground that----?"

"Really I don't know any more. But it's finally over; you may dependupon that. "

Southend lit a cigar with a satisfied air. On the whole he was glad tohear the news. 

"Staying much longer in town?" he asked. 

"No, I'm going down to Iver's again in August. "

"You want to see the end of it? Come, I know that's it!" He laughed ashe walked away. 

Meanwhile Harry Tristram, unconscious of the efforts which were beingmade to arrange his future, and paying as little attention as he couldto the buzz of gossip about his past, had settled down in quiet roomsand was looking at the world from a new point of view. He was inseclusion like his cousin; the mourning they shared for Addie Tristramwas sufficient excuse; and he found his chief pleasure in wanderingabout the streets. The season was not over yet, and he liked to go outabout eight in the evening and watch the great city starting forth toenjoy itself. Then he could feel its life in all the rush and the gayetyof it. Somehow now he seemed more part of it and more at home in it thanwhen he used to run up for a few days from his country home. Then Blenthad been the centre of his life, and in town he was but a stranger and asojourner. Blent was gone; and London is home to homeless men. There wasa suggestion for him in the air of it, an impulse that was gradually butstrongly urging him to action, telling him that he must begin to do. Forthe moment he was notorious, but the talk and the staring would be oversoon--the sooner the better, he added most sincerely. Then he must dosomething if he wished still to be, or ever again to be, anybody. Otherwise he could expect no more than to be pointed out now and then tothe curious as the man who had once been Tristram of Blent and hadceased to be such in a puzzling manner. 

As he looked back, he seemed to himself to have lived hitherto on thebanks of the river of life as well as of the river Blent; there had beenno need of swimming. But he was in the current now; he must swim orsink. This idea took shape as he watched the carriages, the lines ofscampering hansoms, the crowds waiting at theatre doors. Every man andevery vehicle, every dandy and every urchin, represented some effort, ifit were only at one end of the scale to be magnificent, at the other notto be hungry. No such notions had been fostered by days spent on thebanks of the Blent. "What shall I do? What shall I do?" The questionhummed in his brain as he walked about. There were such infinitevarieties of things to do, such a multitude of people doing them. Tosome men this reflection brings despair or bewilderment; to Harry (asindeed Lord Southend would have expected from his observation of him) itwas a titillating evidence of great opportunities, stirring his mind toa busy consideration of chances. Thus then it seemed as though Blentmight fall into the background, his loved Blent. Perhaps his notthinking of it had begun in wilfulness, or even in fear; but he foundthe rule he had made far easier to keep than he had ever expected. Therehad been a sort of release for his mind; he had not foreseen this as apossible result of his great sacrifice. He even felt rather richer;which seemed a strange paradox, till he reflected that the owners ofBlent had seldom been able to lay hands readily on a fluid sum offifteen thousand pounds, subject to no claims for houses to be repaired, buildings to be maintained, cottages to be built, wages to be paid, andthe dozen other ways in which money disperses itself over the surface ofa landed estate. He had fifteen thousand pounds in form as good as cash. He was living more or less as he had once meant to live in this oneparticular; he was living with a respectable if not a big check by him, ready for any emergency which might arise--an emergency not now of adanger to be warded off, but of an opportunity to be seized. 

These new thoughts suited well with the visit which he paid to LadyEvenswood and gained fresh strength from it. His pride and independencehad made him hesitate about going. Southend, amazed yet half admiring, had been obliged to plead, reminding him that it was not merely a womannor merely a woman of rank who wished to make his acquaintance, but alsoa very old woman who had known his mother as a child. He further offeredhis own company, so that the interview might assume a less formalaspect. Harry declined the company but yielded to the plea. He wasannounced as Mr Tristram. He had just taken steps to obtain a RoyalLicense to bear the name. Southend had chuckled again half admiringlyover that. 

Although the room was in deep shadow and very still, and the oldwhite-haired lady the image of peace, for Harry there too the currentran strong. Though not great, she had known the great; if she had notdone the things, she had seen them done; her talk revealed amatter-of-course knowledge of secrets, a natural intimacy with theinaccessible. It was like Harry to show no signs of being impressed; butvery shrewd eyes were upon him, and his impassivity met with amusedapproval since it stopped short of inattention. She broke it down atlast by speaking of Addie Tristram. 

"The most fascinating creature in the world, " she said. "I knew her as alittle girl. I knew her up to the time of your birth almost. After thatshe hardly left Blent, did she? At least she never came to London. Youtravelled, I know. "

"Were you ever at Blent?" he asked. 

"No, Mr Tristram. "

He frowned for a moment; it was odd not to be able to ask people there, just too as he was awaking to the number of people there were in theworld worth asking. 

"There never was anybody in the world like her, and there never willbe, " Lady Evenswood went on. 

"I used to think that; but I was wrong. " The smile that Mina Zabriskaknew came on his face. 

"You were wrong? Who's like her then?"

"Her successor. My cousin Cecily's very like her. "

Lady Evenswood was more struck by the way he spoke than by the meaningof what he said. She wanted to say "Bravo, " and to pat him on the back;he had avoided so entirely any hesitation or affectation in naming hiscousin--Addie Tristram's successor who had superseded him. 

"She talks and moves and sits and looks at you in the same way. I wasamazed to see it. " He had said not a word of this to anybody since heleft Blent. Lady Evenswood, studying him very curiously, began to makeconjectures about the history of the affair, also about what lay behindher visitor's composed face; there was a hint of things suppressed inhis voice. But he had the bridle on himself again in a moment. "Verycurious these likenesses are, " he ended with a shrug. 

She decided that he was remarkable, for a boy of his age, bred in thecountry, astonishing. She had heard her father describe Pitt attwenty-one and Byron at eighteen. Without making absurd comparisons, there was, all the same, something of that precocity of manhood here, something also of the arrogance that the great men had exhibited. Shewas very glad that she had sent for him. 

"I don't want to be impertinent, " she said (she had not meant to makeeven this much apology), "but perhaps an old woman may tell you that sheis very sorry for--for this turn in your fortunes, Mr Tristram. "

"You're very kind. It was all my own doing, you know. Nobody could havetouched me. "

"But that would have meant----?" she exclaimed, startled into candor. 

"Oh, yes, I know. Still--but since things have turned out differently, Ineedn't trouble you with that. "

She saw the truth, seeming to learn it from the set of his jaw. Sheenjoyed a man who was not afraid to defy things, and she had been heardto lament that everybody had a conscience nowadays--nay, insisted onbringing it even into politics. She wanted to hear more--much morenow--about his surrender, and recognized as a new tribute to Harry thefact that she could not question him. Immediately she conceived the ideaof inviting him to dinner to meet Mr Disney; but of course that mustwait for a little while. 

"Everything must seem rather strange to you?" she suggested. 

"Yes, very, " he answered thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to think that someday I shall look back on my boyhood with downright incredulity. I shan'tseem to have been that boy in the least. "

"What are you going to do in the meantime, to procure that feeling?" Shewas getting to the point she wished to arrive at, but very cautiously. 

"I don't know yet. It's hard to choose. "

"You certainly won't want for friends. "

"Yes, that's pleasant, of course. " He seemed to hint, however, that hedid not regard it as very useful. 

"Oh, and serviceable too, " she corrected him, with a nod of wiseexperience. "Jobs are frowned at now, but many great men have started bymeans of them. Robert Disney himself came in for a pocket-borough. "

"Well, I really don't know, " he repeated thoughtfully, but with no signof anxiety or fretting. "There's lots of time, Lady Evenswood. "

"Not for me, " she said with all her graciousness. 

He smiled again, this time cordially, as he rose to take leave. But shedetained him. 

"You're on friendly terms with your cousin, I suppose?"

"Certainly, if we meet. Of course I haven't seen her since I left Blent. She's there, you know. "

"Have you written to her?"

"No. I think it's best not to ask her to think of me just now. "

She looked at him a moment, seeming to consider. 

"Perhaps, " she said at last. "But don't over-do that. Don't be cruel. "

"Cruel?" There was strong surprise in his voice and on his face. 

"Yes, cruel. Have you ever troubled to think what she may be feeling?"

"I don't know that I ever have, " Harry admitted slowly. "At first sightit looks as if I were the person who might be supposed to be feeling. "

"At first sight, yes. Is that always to be enough for you, Mr Tristram?If so, I shan't regret so much that I haven't--lots of time. "

He stood silent before her for several seconds. 

"Yes, I see. Perhaps. I daresay I can find out something about it. Afterall, I've given some evidence of consideration for her. "

"That makes it worse if you give none now. Good-by. "

"It's less than a fortnight since I first met her. She won't miss memuch, Lady Evenswood. "

"Time's everything, isn't it? Oh, you're not stupid! Think it over, MrTristram. Now good-by. And don't conclude I shan't think about youbecause it's only an hour since we met. We women are curious. Whenyou've nothing better to do it'll pay you to study us. "

As Harry walked down from her house in Green Street, his thoughts weredivided between the new life and that old one which she had raised againbefore his eyes by her reference to Cecily. The balance was turned infavor of Blent by the sight of a man who was associated in his mind withit--Sloyd, the house-agent who had let Merrion Lodge to Mina Zabriska. Sloyd was as smart as usual, but he was walking along in a dejected way, and his hat was unfashionably far back on his head. He started when hesaw Harry approaching him. 

"Why, it's----" he began, and stopped in evident hesitation. 

"Mr Tristram, " said Harry. "Glad to meet you, Mr Sloyd, though you won'thave any more rent to hand over to me. "

Sloyd began to murmur some rather flowery condolences. 

Harry cut him short in a peremptory but good-natured fashion. 

"How's business with you?" he asked. 

"Might be worse, Mr Tristram. I don't complain. We're a young firm, andwe don't command the opportunities that others do. " He laughed as headded, "You couldn't recommend me to a gentleman with ten thousandpounds to spare, could you, Mr Tristram?"

"I know just the man. What's it for?"

"No, no. Principals only, " said Sloyd with a shake of his head. 

"How does one become a principal then? I'll walk your way a bit. " Harrylit a cigar; Sloyd became more erect and amended the position of hishat; he hoped that a good many people would recognize Harry. Yet socialpride did not interfere with business wariness. 

"Are you in earnest, Mr Tristram? It's a safe thing. "

"Oh, no, it isn't, or you wouldn't be hunting for ten thousand on thepavement of Berkeley Square. "

"I'll trust you, " Sloyd declared. Harry nodded thanks, inwardly amusedat the obvious effort which attended the concession. "If you don't comein, you'll not give it away?" Again Harry nodded. "It's a big chance, but we haven't got the money to take it, and unless we can take it weshall have to sell our rights. It's an option on land. I secured it, butit's out in a week. Before then we must table twenty thousand. And tencleans us out. "

"What'll happen if you don't?"

"I must sell the option--rather than forfeit it, you know. I've an offerfor it, but a starvation one. "

"Who from?"

After a moment's scrutiny Sloyd whispered a name of immense significancein such a connection: "Iver. "

"I should like to hear some more about this. It's worth something, Iexpect, if Iver wants it. Shall I go with you to your office?" He haileda passing cab. "I've got the money, " he said, "and I want to use it. Youshow me that this is a good thing, and in it goes. "

An hour passed in the office of Sloyd, Sloyd, and Gurney. Harry Tristramcame out whistling. He looked very pleased; his step was alert; he hadfound something to do, he had made a beginning--good or bad. It lookedgood: that was enough. He was no longer an idler or merely an onlooker. He had begun to take a hand in the game himself. He found an added, perhaps a boyish, pleasure in the fact that the affair was for thepresent to be a dead secret. He was against Iver too in a certain sense, and that was another spice; not from any ill-will, but because it wouldplease him especially to show Iver that he could hold his own. Itoccurred to him that in case of a success he would enjoy going andtelling old Lady Evenswood about it. He felt, as he said to himself, very jolly, careless and jolly, more so than he remembered feeling formany months back. Suddenly an idea struck him. Was it in whole or inpart because there was no longer anything to hide, because he need nolonger be on the watch? He gave this idea a good deal of rather amusedconsideration, and came to the conclusion that there might be somethingin it. He went to the theatre that night, to the pit (where he would notbe known), and enjoyed himself immensely. 

And Lady Evenswood had made up her mind that she would find a way ofseeing Mr Disney soon, and throw out a cautious feeler. Everything wouldhave to be done very carefully, especially if the marriage with thecousin were to be made a feature of the case. But her resolve, althoughnot altered, was hampered by a curious feeling to which her talk withHarry had given rise. There was now not only the very grave questionwhether Robert Disney--to say nothing of Somebody Else--would entertainthe idea. There was another, a much less obvious one--whether Harryhimself would welcome it. And a third--whether she herself would welcomeit for him. However, when Southend next called on her, she professed herreadiness to attack or at least to reconnoitre the task from which heand John Fullcombe and the rest had shrunk. 

"Only, " she said, "if I were you, I should find out tolerably early--assoon as we know that there's any chance at all--what Mr Tristram himselfthinks about it. "

"There's only one thing he could think!" exclaimed Southend. 

"Oh, very well, " smiled Lady Evenswood. 

A long life had taught her that only facts convince, and that they oftenfail. 

XVII

RIVER SCENES AND BRIC-À-BRAC

The Blent was on fire indeed, and Mina Zabriska occupied a position richin importance, prolific of pleasure. Others, such as Iver and Miss S. , might meet Mr Gainsborough as he took timid rambles; they could extortlittle beyond a dazed civility. Others again, such as Janie Iver and BobBroadley, might comfort themselves with the possession of a secret andthe conviction that they too could produce a fair sensation when theappropriate (and respectable) time arrived; for the present theycommanded no public interest. Others again, the Major notably, stroveafter importance by airs of previous knowledge and hints of undiscloseddetails. Even Mrs Trumbler made her cast, declaring that she had alwaysknown (the source of the information was left in obscurity) that pridesuch as Harry Tristram's was the sure precursor of a fall. None of themcould compete with Mina Zabriska. To her alone the doors of Blent wereopen; she held exclusive right of access to its hidden mistress. Thefact caused unmeasured indignation, the reason excited unrestingcuriosity. This state of things ought to have made Mina very happy. Whatmore could woman want?

One thing only, but that a necessity--somebody to talk to about it. Shehad nobody. Janie showed no desire to discuss Blent or anything oranybody connected therewith, and with Janie out of the question therewas nobody to whom loyalty allowed her to talk. The Major, for instance, was one of the enemy. She might pity him as an uncle--he was perplexedand surly, because somehow he never happened to meet Miss Iver now--butshe could not confide in him. The gossips of Blentmouth were beneath herlordly notice. She was bubbling over with undiscussed impressions. Andnow even Mr Neeld had gone off on a visit to town!

Yet things needed talking about, hammering out, the light of anothermind thrown upon them; for they were very difficult. There was no needto take account of Mr Gainsborough; as long as he could be kept in thelibrary and out of the one curiosity-shop which was to be found inBlentmouth, he could not do himself or the house much harm. He was stillbewildered, but by no means unhappy, and he talked constantly of goingback to town to see about everything--to-morrow. There was nothing tosee about--the lawyers had done it all--and he was no more necessary orimportant in London than he was at Blent. But Cecily's case was anothermatter altogether, and it was about her that Mina desired theenlightening contact of mind with mind, in order to canvass and explainthe incongruities of a behavior which conformed to no rational orconsistent theory. 

Cecily had acquiesced in all the lawyers did, had signed papers atrequest, had allowed herself to be invested with the property, salutedwith the title, enthroned in the fullest manner. So far then she hadaccepted her cousin's sacrifice and the transformation of her own life. Yet through and in spite of all this she maintained, even to the extremeof punctiliousness, the air of being a visitor at Blent. She was notexactly apologetic to the servants, but she thanked them profusely forany special personal service they might perform for her; she made nochanges in the order of the household; when Mina--always busy in herfriend's interest--suggested re-arrangement of furniture or of curios, Cecily's manner implied that she was prepared to take no such libertiesin another man's house. It would have been all very well-bred if Harryhad put his house at her disposal for a fortnight. Seeing that the placewas her own and that she had accepted it as being her own, Mina declaredthat her conduct was little less than an absurdity. This assertion waslimited to Mina's own mind; it had not been made to the offenderherself. The fear she had felt of Harry threatened to spread to hissuccessor; she did not feel equal to a remonstrance. But she grewgradually into a state of extreme irritation and impatience. Thisprovisional, this ostentatiously provisional, attitude could not bemaintained permanently. Something must happen one way or the other. Nowwhat was it to be? She could not pretend to guess. These Tristrams wereodd folk. There was the same blood in Cecily as had run in AddieTristram's veins. On the other hand the Gainsboroughs seemed to havebeen ordinary. Was this period of indecision or of suspended action atime of struggle between the Tristram in Cecily and the Gainsborough?Mina, on the look-out for entertainment, had no doubt which of the twoshe wished to be victorious; the Gainsborough promised nothing, theTristram--well--effects! The strain made Mina excited, restless, and attimes exceedingly short with Major Duplay. 

The neighborhood waited too, but for the end of Lady Tristram'smourning, not of her indecision. As a result of much discussion, basedon many rumors and an incredible number of authentic reports, it wassettled that at the end of six months Blent was to be thrown open, visitors received, and a big house-warming given. A new era was tobegin. Splendor and respectability were to lie down together. Blent wasto pay a new homage to the proprieties. Miss Swinkerton was strongly ofopinion that bygones should be allowed to be bygones, and was author ofa theory which found much acceptance among the villas--namely, that LadyTristram would consider any reference to her immediate predecessor asinconsiderate, indeed indelicate, and not such as might be expected toproceed from lady-like mouths. 

"We must remember that she's a girl, my dear, " Miss S. Observed to MrsTrumbler. 

"She must know about it, " Mrs Trumbler suggested. "But I dare say you'reright, Miss Swinkerton. "

"If such a thing had happened in my family, I should consider myselfpersonally affronted by any reference to the persons concerned. "

"The Vicar says he's sadly afraid that the notions of the upper classeson such subjects are very lax. "

"Not at all, " said Miss S. Tartly. Really she needed no instruction fromthe Vicar. "And as I say, my dear, she's a girl. The ball will mark anew departure. I said so to Madame Zabriska and she quite agreed withme. "

Mrs Trumbler frowned pensively. "I suppose Madame Zabriska has been awidow some time?" she remarked. 

"I have never inquired, " said Miss S. With an air of expecting applausefor a rare discretion. 

"I wonder what Mr Harry will do! The Vicar says he must be terriblyupset. "

"Oh, I never professed to understand that young man. All I know is thathe's going abroad. "

"Abroad?"

"Yes, my dear. I heard it in the town, and Madame Zabriska said she hadno doubt it was correct. "

"But surely Madame Zabriska doesn't correspond----?"

"I don't know, my dear. I know what she said. " She looked at MrsTrumbler and went on with emphasis: "It doesn't do to judge foreignersas we should judge ourselves. If I corresponded with Mr Tristram itwould be one thing; if Madame Zabriska--and to be sure she has nobody tolook after her; that Major is no better than any silly youngman--chooses to do so, it's quite another. All I say is that, so far asBlent is concerned, there's an end of Mr Tristram. Why, he hasn't got apenny piece, my dear. "

"So I heard, " agreed Mrs Trumbler. "I suppose they won't let himstarve. "

"Oh, arrangements are made in such cases, " nodded Miss S. "But of coursenothing is said about them. For my part I shall never mention either MrTristram or the late Lady Tristram to her present ladyship. "

Mrs Trumbler was silent for a while; at last her mouth spoke thethoughts of her heart. 

"I suppose she'll be thinking of marrying soon. But I don't know anybodyin the neighborhood----"

"My dear, she'll have her house in town in the season. The only reasonthe late Lady Tristram didn't do so was---- Well, you can see that foryourself, Mrs Trumbler!"

"What must the Ivers think about it! What an escape! How providential!"

"Let us hope it'll be a lesson to Janie. If I had allowed myself tothink of position or wealth, I should have been married half a dozentimes, Mrs Trumbler. "

"I dare say you would, " said faithful Mrs Trumbler. But this assent didnot prevent her from remarking to the Vicar that Miss S. Sometimestalked of things which no unmarried woman could be expected really tounderstand. 

It will be observed that the Imp had been alleviating the pangs of herown perplexity by a dexterous ministering to the delusions of others. Not for the world would she have contradicted Miss S. 's assertions; shewould as soon have thought of giving that lady a plain and unvarnishedaccount of the late Monsieur Zabriska's very ordinary and quitereputable life and death. No doubt she was right. Both she and theneighborhood had to wait, and her efforts did something to make theperiod more bearable for both of them. The only sufferer was poor MrGainsborough, who was driven from Blentmouth and the curiosity shop bythe sheer terror of encountering ladies from villas who told him allabout what his daughter was going to do. 

The outbreak came, and in a fashion as Tristram-esque as Mina coulddesire, for all that the harbinger of it was frightened little MrGainsborough, more frightened still. He came up the hill one eveningabout six, praying Mina's immediate presence at Blent. Something hadhappened, he explained, as they walked down. Cecily had had aletter--from somebody in London. No, not Harry. She must see Mina atonce. That was all he knew, except that his daughter was perturbed andexcited. His manner protested against the whole thing with a milddespair. 

"Quick, quick!" cried the Imp, almost making him run to keep up with herimpatient strides. 

Cecily was in her room--the room that had been Addie Tristram's. 

"You've moved in here!" was Mina's first exclamation. 

"Yes; the housekeeper said I must, so I did. But----" She glanced up fora moment at Addie's picture and broke off. Then she held up a letterwhich she had in her hand. "Do you know anything of Lord Southend?" sheasked. 

"I've heard Mr Iver and Mr Neeld speak of him. That's all. "

"He writes to say he knew Lady Tristram and--and Harry, and hopes he'llknow me soon. "

"That's very friendly. " Mina thought, but did not add, that it wasrather unimportant. 

"Yes, but it's more than that. Don't you see? It's an opening. " Shelooked at her friend, impatient at her want of comprehension. "It makesit possible to do something. I can begin now. "

"Begin what?" Mina was enjoying her own bewilderment keenly. 

"How long did you think I could stand it? I'm not made of--of--of soap!You know Harry! You liked him, didn't you? And you knew Lady Tristram!I've slept in this room two nights and----"

"You haven't seen a ghost?"

"Ghost! Oh, don't be silly. I've lain here awake, looking at thatpicture. And it's looked at me--at least it seemed to. 'What are youdoing here?' That's what it's been saying. 'What are you doing here?'No, I'm not mad. That's what I was saying myself. But the picture seemedto say it. "

There was a most satisfactory absence of Gainsborough about all this. 

"Then I go into the Long Gallery! It's no better there!" Her hands wereflung out despairingly. 

"You seemed to have settled down so well, " murmured Mina. 

"Settled down! What was there to do? Oh, you know I hadn't! I can't bearit, Mina, and I won't. Isn't it hard? I should have loved it all so, ifit had been really mine, if it had come to me properly. And now--it'sworse than nothing!" She sat back in her chair with her face set in adesperate unhappiness. 

"It is yours; it did come to you properly, " Mina protested. Her sympathytended always toward the person she was with, her sensitive mindresponding to the immediate appeal. She thought more of Cecily now thanof Harry, who was somewhere--vaguely somewhere--in London. 

"You say that?" cried Cecily angrily. "You, Harry's friend! You, whofought and lied--yes, lied for him. Why did you do all that if you thinkit's properly mine? How can I face that picture and say it's mine? It'sa detestable injustice. Ah, and I did--I did love it so. "

"Well, I don't see what you're to do. You can't give it back to Mr. Tristram. At least I shouldn't like to propose that to him, and I'm surehe wouldn't take it. Why, he couldn't, Cecily!"

Cecily rose and walked restlessly to the window. 

"No, no, no, " she said fretfully. She turned abruptly round to Mina. "Lord Southend says he'd be glad to make my acquaintance and have atalk. "

"Ask him down here then. "

"Ask him here? I'm not going to ask people to stay here. "

"I think that's rather absurd. " Mina had needed to summon up courage forthis remark. 

"And he says---- There, look at this letter. He says he's seen Harry andhopes to be able to do something for him. What does he mean by that?"She came back toward Mina. "There must be something possible if he saysthat. "

"He can't mean anything about--about Blent. He means----"

"I must find out what he means. I must see him. The letter came when Iwas just desperate. Father and I sitting down here together day afterday! As if----! As if----!" She paused and struggled for self-control. "There, I'm going to be quite calm and reasonable about it, " she ended. 

Mina had her doubts about that--and would have been sorry not to havethem. The interest that had threatened to vanish from her life withAddie Tristram's death and Harry's departure was revived. She satlooking at the agitated girl in a pleasant suspense. Cecily took upSouthend's letter again and smoothed it thoughtfully. "What should youthink Harry must feel about me?" she asked, with a nearer approach tothe calm which she had promised; but it seemed the quiet of despair. 

Here Mina had her theory ready and advanced it with confidence. 

"I expect he hates you. You see he did what he did in a moment ofexcitement: he must have been wrought up by something--something quiteunusual with him. You brought it about somehow. "

"Yes, I know I did. Do you suppose I haven't thought about that?"

"There's sure to have been a reaction, " pursued the sage Imp. "He'llhave got back to his ordinary state of mind, and in that he loved Blentabove everything. And the more he loves Blent, and the sorrier he is forhaving given it up, the less he'll like you, of course. "

"You think he's sorry?"

"When I've done anything on an impulse like that, I'm always sorry. "Mina spoke from a tolerably large experience of impulses and theirresults; a very recent example had been the impulse of temper which madeher drop hints to the Major about Harry's right to be Tristram of Blent. 

"Yes, then he would hate me, " Cecily concluded. "And how she'd hate me!"she cried the next instant, pointing at Addie Tristram's picture. 

About that at least there was no doubt in Mina's mind. She noddedemphatically. 

"I've done what she spent her life trying to prevent! I've madeeverybody talk about her again! Mina, I feel as if I'd thrown mud ather, as if I'd reviled her. And she can't know how I would have lovedher!"

"I remember her when she thought her husband was dead, and that shecould be married all right to Captain Fitzhubert, and--and that it wouldbe all right, you know. "

"What did she say?" Cecily's eyes were on the picture. 

"She cried out--'Think of the difference it makes--the enormousdifference!' I didn't know what she meant then, but I remember how shelooked and how she spoke. "

"And in the end there is--no difference! Yes, she'd hate me. And so mustHarry. " She turned to Mina. "It's terribly unfair, isn't it, terribly?She'd have liked me, I think, and I'd got to be such good friends withhim. I'd come to think he'd ask us down now and then--about once a yearperhaps. It would have been something to look forward to all the year. It would have made life quite different, quite good enough, you know. Ishould have been so content and so happy with that. Oh, it's terriblyunfair! Why do people do things that--that bring about things likethis?"

"Poor Lady Tristram, " sighed Mina, glancing at the beautiful cause ofthe terrible unfairness. "She was like that, you see, " she added. 

"Yes, I know that. But it oughtn't to count against other people so. Yes, it's terribly unfair. "

These criticisms on the order of the world, whether well-founded or not(to Mina they seemed to possess much plausibility), did not advancematters. A silence fell between the two, and Cecily walked again to thewindow. The sun was setting on Blent, and it glowed in a soft beauty. 

"To think that I should be here, and have this, and yet be very veryunhappy!" murmured the girl softly. She faced round suddenly. "Mina, I'mgoing to London. Now--to-night. There's a train at eight. "

The Imp sat up straight and stared. 

"I shall wire to our house; the maid's there, and she'll have thingsready. "

"What are you going to town for?"

"To see this Lord Southend. You must come with me. "

"I? Oh, I can't possibly. And your father----?"

"He must stay here. You must come. Run back and pack a bag; you won'twant much. I shall go just as I am. " With a gesture she indicated theplain black frock she wore. "Oh, I can't be bothered with packing! Whatdoes that matter? I'll call for you in the carriage at seven. We mustn'tmiss the train. "

Mina gasped. This was Tristram indeed; the wild resolve was announced intones calmer than any that Cecily had achieved during the interview. Mina began to think that all the family must have this way of beingpeculiar in ordinary things, but quite at home when there was anopportunity of doing anything unusual. 

"I just feel I must go. If anything's done at all, it'll be done inLondon, not here. "

"How long do you mean to stay?"

"I can't possibly tell. Till something's done. Go now, Mina, or you'llbe late. "

"Oh, I'm not coming. The whole thing's absurd. What can you do? And, anyhow, it's not my business. "

"Very well. I shall go alone. Only I thought you were interested inHarry and--and I thought you were my friend. " She threw herself into achair; she was in Addie Tristram's attitude. "But I suppose I haven'tgot any friends, " she concluded, not in a distressed fashion, but with apensive submissive little smile. 

"You're perfectly adorable, " cried Mina, running across to her. "AndI'll go with you to Jericho, if you like. " She caught Cecily's hands inhers and kissed her cheek. 

The scene was transformed in an instant; that also was the Tristram way. Cecily sprang up laughing gayly, even dancing a step or two, as shewrung Mina's hands. 

"Hurrah! _Marchons! En Avant!_" she cried. "Oh, we'll do something, Mina! Don't you hate sitting still?"

"Cecily, are you--are you in love with Harry?"

"Oh, I hope not, I hope not, " she laughed softly. "Because he must hateme so. And are you, Mina? Oh, I hope not that too! Come, to London! Toseek our fortunes in London! Oh, you tiresome old Blent, how glad I amto leave you!"

"But your father----"

"We'll do things quite nicely, Mina dear. We won't distress father. We'll leave a note for him. Mina, I'm sure Addie Tristram used just toleave a note whenever she ran away! We'll sleep in London to-night!"

Suddenly Mina understood better why Harry had surrendered Blent, andunderstood too, as her mind flew back, why Addie Tristram had made mendo what they had done. She was carried away by this sudden flood ofenraptured resolution, of a resolve that seemed like an inspiration, ofdelight in the unreasonable, of gay defiance to the limits of thepossible. 

"Oh, yes, you tiresome old Blent!" cried Cecily, shaking her fair hairtoward the open window. "How could a girl think she was going to live onriver scenes and bric-à-brac?" She laughed in airy scorn. "You mustgrow more amusing if I'm to come back to you!" she threatened. 

River scenes and bric-à-brac! Mina was surprised that Blent did not onthe instant punish the blasphemy by a revengeful earthquake or anoverwhelming flood. Cecily caught her by the arm, a burlesqueapprehension screwing her face up into a fantastically ugly mask. 

"It was the Gainsborough in me!" she whispered, "Gainsboroughs can liveon curios! But I can't, Mina, I can't. I'm a Tristram, not aGainsborough. No more could Harry in the end, no more could Harry!"

Mina was panting; she had danced and she had wondered; she was on thetip of the excitement with which Cecily had infected her. 

"But what are we going to do?" she cried in a last protest ofcommon-sense. 

"Oh, I don't know, but something--something--something, " was the notvery common-sense answer she received. 

It was not the moment for common-sense. Mina scorned the thing and flungit from her. She would have none of it--she who stood between beautifulAddie there on the wall and laughing Cecily here in the window, feelingby a strange and welcome illusion that though there were two visibleshapes, there was but one heart, one spirit in the two. Almost it seemedas though Addie had risen to life again, once more to charm and to defythe world. An inexplicable impulse made her exclaim:

"Were you like this before you came to Blent?"

A sudden quiet fell on Cecily. She paused before she answered:

"No, not till I came to Blent. " With a laugh she fell on her knees. "Please forgive me what I said about the river and the bric-à-brac, deardarling Blent!"

XVIII

CONSPIRATORS AND A CRUX

Lord Southend was devoted to his wife--a state of feeling natural often, creditable always. Yet the reason people gave for it--and gave withsomething like an explicit sanction from him--was not a very exaltedone. Susanna made him so exceedingly comfortable. She was born to managea hotel and cause it to pay fifteen per cent. Being a person--not ofsocial importance, nothing could make her that--but of social rank, shewas forced to restrict her genius to a couple of private houses. Theresult was like the light of the lamps in the heroine's boudoir, a softbrilliancy: in whose glamour Susanna's plain face and limitedintellectual interests were lost to view. She was also a particularlygood woman; but her husband knew better than to talk about that. 

Behold him after the most perfect of lunches, his arm-chair in exactlythe right spot, his papers by him, his cigars to his hand (even theseSusanna understood), a sense of peace in his heart, and in his head amild wonder that anybody was discontented with the world. In thiscondition he intended to spend at least a couple of hours; after whichSusanna would drive him gently once round the Park, take him to theHouse of Lords, wait twenty minutes, and then land him at the Imperium. He lit a cigar and took up the _Economist_; it was not the moment foranything exciting. 

"A lady to see you, my Lord--on important business. "

Excessive comfort is enervating. After a brief and futile resistance hefound Mina Zabriska in the room, and himself regarding her with mingledconsternation and amusement. Relics of excitement hung about the Imp, but they were converted to business purposes. She came as an agent. Thename of her principal awoke Southend's immediate interest. 

"She's come up to London?" he exclaimed. 

"Yes, both of us. We're at their old home. "

Southend discovered his _pince-nez_ and studied her thin mobile littleface. 

"And what have you come up for?" he asked after a pause. 

Mina shrugged her shoulders. "Just to see what's going on, " she said. "Idare say you wonder what I've got to do with it?" His manner seemed toassent, and she indicated her position briefly. 

"Oh, that's it, is it? You knew the late Lady Tristram. And youknew----" Again he regarded her thoughtfully. "I hope Lady Tristram--thenew one--is well?"

There was the sound of a whispered consultation outside the door; itdrew Mina's eyes in that direction. 

"That's all right, " he smiled. "It's only my wife scolding the butlerfor having let you in. This is my time for rest. "

"Rest!" exclaimed Mina rather scornfully. "You wrote to Cecily as if youcould do something. "

"That was rash of me. What do you want done? I've heard about you fromIver, you know. "

"Oh, the Ivers have nothing to do with this. It's just between Cecilyand Mr. Tristram. "

"And you and me, apparently. "

"What was your idea when you wrote? I made Cecily let me come and seeyou because it sounded as if you had an idea. " If he had no idea, it wasclear that contempt awaited him. 

"I wanted to be friendly. But as for doing anything--well, that hardlydepends on me. "

"But things can't go on as they are, you know, " she said brusquely. 

"Unhappily, as I understand the law----"

"Oh, I understand the law too--and very silly it is. I suppose it can'tbe changed?"

"Good gracious, my dear Madame Zabriska! Changed!" And on this pointtoo! _Nolumus leges Angliæ_---- He just stopped himself from thequotation. 

"What are Acts of Parliament for?" Mina demanded. 

"Absolutely out of the question, " he laughed. "Even if everybodyconsented, absolutely. "

"And Harry Tristram wouldn't consent, you mean?"

"Well, could any man?"

Mina looked round the room with a discontented air; there is such alamentable gulf between feeling that something must be done anddiscovering what it is. 

"I don't say positively that nothing can be done, " he resumed after amoment, dangling his glass and looking at her covertly. "Are you atleisure this afternoon?"

"If you've got anything to suggest. " Mina had grown distrustful of hisintelligence, and her tone showed it. 

"I thought you might like to come and see a friend of mine, who is kindenough to be interested in Harry Tristram. " He added, with theconsciousness of naming an important person, "I mean Lady Evenswood. "

"Who's she?" asked the Imp curtly. 

To do them justice, Englishmen seldom forget that allowances must bemade for foreigners. Lord Southend explained gravely and patiently. 

"Well, let's go, " said Mina indifferently. "Not that it seems much use, "her manner added. 

"Excuse me a moment, " said he, and he went out to soothe his wife'salarm and assure her that he was not tired. 

As they drove, Mina heard more of Lady Evenswood--among other things, that she had known Addie Tristram as a child; this fact impressed theImp beyond all the rest. But Lady Evenswood herself made a greaterimpression still. An unusual timidity assaulted and conquered Mina whenshe found herself with the white-haired old lady who never seemed to domore than gently suggest and yet exercised command. Southend watchedthem together with keen amusement, while Lady Evenswood drew out of Minasome account of Cecily's feelings and of the scene at Blent. 

"Well, that's Tristram all over, " sighed Lady Evenswood at the end. 

"Yes, isn't it?" cried Mina, emboldened by a sympathy that spoke her ownthought. "She hates to feel she's taken everything away from him. ButLord Southend says he can't have it back. "

"Oh, no, no, my dear. Still----" She glanced at Southend, doubtfulwhether to mention their scheme. 

He shook his head slightly. 

"I dare say Lady Tristram was momentarily excited, " he remarked to Mina, "and I think too that she exaggerates what Harry feels. As far as I'veseen him, he's by no means miserable. "

"Well, she is anyhow, " said Mina. "And you won't convince her that heisn't. " She turned to Lady Evenswood. "Is there nothing to be done? Yousee it's all being wasted. "

"All being wasted?"

"Yes, Blent and all of it. He can't have it; and as things are now shecan't enjoy it. "

"Very perverse, very perverse, certainly, " murmured Southend, frowning--although he was rather amused too. 

"With an obvious solution, " said Lady Evenswood, "if only we lived inthe realms of romance. "

"I have suggested a magician, " put in Southend. "Though he doesn't lookmuch like one, " he added with a laugh. 

Mina did not understand his remark, but she caught Lady Evenswood'smeaning. 

"Yes, " she said, "but Harry wouldn't do that either. "

"He doesn't like his cousin?"

"Yes, I think so. " She smiled as she added, "And even if he didn't thatmightn't matter. "

The other two exchanged glances as they listened. Mina, inspired by asubject that never failed to rouse her, gained courage. 

"Any more than it mattered with Miss Iver, " she pursued. "And he mightjust as likely have given Blent to Cecily in that way as in the way heactually did--if she'd wanted it very much and--and it had been asplendid thing for him to do. "

Lady Evenswood nodded gently. Southend raised his brows in a sort ofprotest against this relentless analysis. 

"Because that sort of thing would have appealed to him. But he'd nevertake it from her; he wouldn't even if he was in love with her. " Sheaddressed Lady Evenswood especially. "You understand that?" she asked. "He wouldn't be indebted to her. He'd hate her for that. "

"Not very amiable, " commented Southend. 

"Amiable? No!" Amiability seemed at a discount with the Imp. 

"You know him very well, my dear?"

"Yes, I--I came to. " Mina paused, and suddenly blushed at theremembrance of an idea that had once been suggested to her by MajorDuplay. "And I'm very fond of her, " she added. 

"In the deadlock, " said Southend, "I think you'll have to try myprescription, Lady Evenswood. "

"You think that would be of use?"

"It would pacify this pride of Master Harry's perhaps. "

Mina looked from one to the other. 

"Do you mean there's anything possible?" she asked. 

"My dear, you're a very good friend. "

"I'm not very happy. I don't know what in the world Cecily will do. Andyet----" Mina struggled with her rival impulses of kindness andcuriosity. "It's all awfully interesting, " she concluded, breaking intoa smile she could not resist. 

"That's the only excuse for all of us, I suppose, " sighed LadyEvenswood. 

"Not that I like the boy particularly, " added Southend. 

"Is there anything?" asked Mina. The appeal was to the lady, not toSouthend. But he answered chaffingly:

"Possibly--just possibly--the resources of the Constitution----"

The bell of the front door sounded audibly in the morning-room in whichthey were. 

"I dare say that's Robert, " remarked Lady Evenswood. "He said he mightcall. "

"Oh, by Jove!" exclaimed Southend with a laugh that sounded a trifleuneasy. 

The door opened, and a man came in unannounced. He was of middle height, with large features, thick coarse hair, and a rather ragged beard; hisarms were long and his hands large. 

"How are you, Cousin Sylvia?" he said, crossing to Lady Evenswood, whogave him her hand without rising. "How are you, Southend?" He turnedback to Lady Evenswood. "I thought you were alone. "

He spoke in brusque tones, and he looked at Mina as if he did not knowwhat she might be doing there. His appearance seemed vaguely familiar toher. 

"We are holding a little conference, Robert. This young lady is veryinterested in Harry Tristram and his affair. Come now, you rememberabout it! Madame Zabriska, this is Mr Disney. "

"Mr Disney!" The Imp gasped. "You mean----?"

The other two smiled. Mr Disney scowled a little. Obviously he had hopedto find his relative alone. 

"Madame Zabriska met Addie Tristram years ago at Heidelberg, Robert; andshe's been staying down at Blent--at Merrion Lodge, didn't you say, mydear?"

Mr Disney had sat down. 

"Well, what's the young fellow like?" he asked. 

"Oh, I--I--don't know, " murmured the Imp in forlorn shyness. This manwas--was actually--the--the Prime Minister! Matters would have beenrather better if he had consented to look just a little like it. As itwas, her head was in a whirl. Lady Evenswood called him "Robert" too!Nothing about Lady Evenswood had impressed her as much as that, not eventhe early acquaintance with Addie Tristram. 

"Well then, what's the girl like?" asked Disney. 

"Robert, don't frighten Madame Zabriska. "

"Frighten her? What do you mean?"

"Oh, tell him what I mean, George, " laughed Lady Evenswood, turning toSouthend. Mr Disney seemed genuinely resentful at the idea that he mightfrighten anybody. 

"Are you a member of the conference too, Southend?"

"Well, yes, I--I'm interested in the family. " He telegraphed a glance ofcaution to the old lady; he meant to convey that the present was not ahappy moment to broach the matter that was in their minds. 

"I'm sorry I interrupted. Can you give me five minutes in another room, Cousin Sylvia?" He rose and waited for her. 

"Oh, but can't you do anything?" blurted out the Imp suddenly. 

"Eh?" His eyes under their heavy brows were fixed on her now. There wasa deep-lying twinkle in them, although he still frowned ferociously. "Dowhat?"

"Why, something for--for Harry Tristram?"

He looked round at each of them. The twinkle was gone; the frown wasnot. 

"Oh, was that the conference?" he asked slowly. "Well, what has theconference decided?" It was Mina whom he questioned, for which Southendat least was profoundly thankful. "He'd have bitten my head off, if thewomen hadn't been there, " he confided to Iver afterward. 

Mr Disney slowly sat down again. Mina did not perceive the significanceof this action, but Lady Evenswood did. 

"It's such an extraordinary case, Robert. So very exceptional! PoorAddie Tristram! You remember her?"

"Yes, I remember Addie Tristram, " he muttered--"growled, " Mina describedit afterward. "Well, what do you want?" he asked. 

Lady Evenswood was a woman of tact. 

"Really, " she said, "it can't be done in this way, of course. Ifanything is to come before you, it must come before you regularly. Iknow that, Robert. "

The Imp had no tact. 

"Oh, no, " she cried. "Do listen now, Mr Disney. Do promise to help usnow!"

Tact is not always the best thing in the world. 

"If you'll tell me in two words, I'll listen, " said Mr Disney. 

"I--I can't do that. In two words? Oh, but please----"

He had turned away from her to Southend. 

"Now then, Southend?"

Lord Southend felt that he must be courageous. After all the women werethere. 

"In two words? Literally?"

Disney nodded, smiling grimly at Mina's clasped hands and imploringface. 

"Literally--if you can. " There was a gratuitous implication thatSouthend and the rest of the world were apt to be loquacious. 

"Well, then, " said Southend, "I will. What we want is----" After oneglance at Lady Evenswood, he got it out. "What we want is--a viscounty. "

For a moment Mr Disney sat still. Then again he rose slowly. 

"Have I tumbled into Bedlam?" he asked. 

"It was done in the Bearsdale case, " suggested Lady Evenswood. "Ofcourse there was a doubt there----"

"Anyhow a barony--but a viscounty would be more convenient, " murmuredSouthend. 

Mina was puzzled. These mysteries were beyond her. She had never heardof the Bearsdale case, and she did not understand why--in certaincircumstances--a viscounty would be more convenient. But she knew thatsomething was being urged which might meet the difficulty, and she kepteager eyes on Mr Disney. Perhaps she would have done that anyhow; menwho rule heads and hearts can surely draw eyes also. Yet at the momenthe was not inspiring. He listened with a smile (was it not rather agrin?) of sardonic ridicule. 

"You made me speak, you know, " said Southend. "I'd rather have waitedtill we got the thing into shape. "

"And I should like you to see the boy, Robert. "

"Bedlam!" said Mr Disney with savage conviction. "I'll talk to you aboutwhat I came to say another day, Cousin Sylvia. Really to-day----!" Witha vague awkward wave of his arm he started for the door. 

"You will try?" cried the Imp, darting at him. 

She heard him say, half under his breath, "Damned persistent littlewoman!" before he vanished through the door. She turned to hercompanions, her face aghast, her lips quivering, her eyes dim. Themagician had come and gone and worked no spell; her disappointment wasvery bitter. 

To her amazement Southend was radiant and Lady Evenswood wore an air ofgratified contentment. She stared at them. 

"It went off better than I expected, " said he. 

"It must be one of Robert's good days, " said she. 

"But--but----" gasped the Imp. 

"He was very civil for him. He must mean to think about it, aboutsomething of the sort anyhow, " Southend explained. "I shouldn't wonderif it had been in his mind, " he added to Lady Evenswood. 

"Neither should I. At any rate he took it splendidly. I almost wish we'dspoken of the marriage. "

"Couldn't you write to him?"

"He wouldn't read it, George. "

"Telegraph then!"

"It would really be worth trying--considering how he took it. " LadyEvenswood did not seem able to get over the Prime Minister'sextraordinary affability. 

"Well, if he treats you like that--great people like you--and you'repleased, thank goodness I never met him alone!" Mina was not shy withthem any more; she had suffered worse. 

They glanced at one another. 

"It was you, my dear. He'd have been more difficult with us, " said LadyEvenswood. 

"You interested him, " Southend assured her. 

"Yes, if anything's been done, you've done it. "

They seemed quite sincere. That feeling of being on her head instead ofher heels came over Mina again. 

"I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he sent for Harry. "

"No, nor if he arranged to meet Cecily Gainsborough--Cecily Tristram, Imean. "

"I thought he looked--well, as if he was hit--when you mentioned Addie. "

"Oh, there's really no telling with Robert. It went off very wellindeed. What a lucky thing he came!"

Still bewildered, Mina began, all the same, to assimilate thisatmosphere of contentment and congratulation. 

"Do you really think I--I had anything to do with it?" she asked, a newpride swelling in her heart. 

"Yes, yes, you attracted his attention. "

"He was amused at you, my dear. "

"Then I'm glad. " She meant that her sufferings would perhaps not gounrecompensed. 

"You must bring Lady Tristram to see me, " said Lady Evenswood. 

"Cecily? Oh--well, I'll try. "

Lady Evenswood smiled and Southend laughed outright. It was not quitethe way in which Lady Evenswood's invitations were generally received. But neither of them liked Mina less. 

It was something to go back to the tiny house between the King's andFulham Road with the record of such adventures as these. Cecily wasthere, languid and weary; she had spent the whole day in that hammock inthe strip of garden in which Sloyd had found her once. Despondency hadsucceeded to her excitement--this was all quite in the Tristram way--andshe had expected no fruit from Mina's expedition. But Mina came home, not indeed with anything very definite, yet laden with a whole pack ofpossibilities. She put that point about the viscounty, which puzzledher, first of all. It alone was enough to fire Cecily to animation. Thenshe led up, through Lady Evenswood, to Mr Disney himself, confessinghowever that she took the encouragement which that great man had givenon faith from those who knew him better than she did. Her own impressionwould have been that he meant to dismiss the whole thing as impossiblenonsense. 

"Still I can't help thinking we've done something, " she ended intriumph. 

"Mina, are you working for him or for me?"

This question faced Mina with a latent problem which she had hithertoavoided. And now she could not solve it. For some time back she had beenfamiliarized with the fact that her life was dull when Harry Tristrampassed out of it. The accepted explanation of that state of feeling wassimple enough. But then it would involve Cecily in her turn passing outof view, or at least becoming entirely insignificant. And Mina was notprepared for that. She tried hard to read the answer, regarding Cecilyearnestly the while. 

"Mayn't I work for both of you?" she asked at last. 

"Well, I can't see why you should do that, " said Cecily, rolling out ofthe hammock and fretfully smoothing her hair. 

"I'm a busy-body. That's it, " said Mina. 

"You know what'll happen if he finds it out? Harry, I mean. He'll befurious with both of us. "

Mina reflected. "Yes, I suppose he will, " she admitted. But the spiritof self-sacrifice was on her, perhaps also that of adventure. "I don'tcare, " she said, "as long as I can help. "

There was a loud knock at the door. Mina rushed into the front room andsaw a man in uniform delivering a letter. The next moment the maidbrought it to her--a long envelope with "First Lord of the Treasury"stamped on the lower left-hand corner. She noticed that it was addressedto Lady Evenswood's house, and must have been sent on post haste. Shetore it open. It was headed "Private and Confidential. "

 "MADAME--I am directed by Mr Disney to request you to state in writing, for his consideration, any facts which may be within your knowledge as to the circumstances attendant on the marriage of the late Lady Tristram of Blent, and the birth of her son Mr Henry Austen Fitzhubert Tristram. I am to add that your communication will be considered confidential. --I am, Madame, Yours faithfully, BROADSTAIRS. 

 "MADAME ZABRISKA. "

"Cecily, Cecily, Cecily!" Mina darted back and thrust this wonderfuldocument into Cecily's hands. "He does mean something, you see, he willdo something!" she cried. "Oh, who's Broadstairs, I wonder. "

Cecily took the letter and read. The Imp reappeared with a red volume inher hand. 

"Viscount Broadstairs--eldest son of the Earl of Ramsgate!" she readwith wide-open eyes. "And he says he's directed to write, doesn't he?Well, you are funny in England! But I don't wonder I was afraid of MrDisney. "

"Oh, Mr Disney's secretary, I suppose. But, Mina----" Cecily was aliveagain now, but her awakening did not seem to be a pleasant one. Sheturned suddenly from her friend and, walking as far off as the littleroom would let her, flung herself into a chair. 

"What's the matter?" asked Mina, checked in her excited gayety. 

"What will Harry care about anything they can give him without Blent?"

Mina flushed. The conspiracy was put before her--not by one of theconspirators but by her who was the object of it. She remembered LadyEvenswood's question and Southend's. She had answered that it might notmuch matter whether Harry liked his cousin or not. He had not lovedJanie Iver. Where was the difference?

"He won't want anything if he can't have Blent. Mina, did they sayanything about me to Mr Disney?"

"No, " cried Mina eagerly. 

"But they will, they mean to?" Cecily was leaning forward eagerly now. 

Mina had no denial ready. She seemed rather to hang on Cecily's wordsthan to feel any need of speaking herself. She was trying to followCecily's thoughts and to trace the cause of the apprehension, the terroralmost, that had come on the girl's face. 

"He'll see it--just as I see it!" Cecily went on. "And, Mina----"

She paused again. Still Mina had no words, and no comfort for her. Thissight of the other side of the question was too sudden. It was Harrythen, and Harry only, who had really been in her thoughts; and Cecily, her friend, was to be used as a tool. There might be little ground forblaming Southend who had never seen her, or Lady Evenswood who had beenbrought in purely in Harry's interest. But how stood Mina, who wasCecily's friend? Yet at last a thought flashed into her mind and gaveher a weapon. 

"Well, what did you come to London for?" she cried defiantly. "Why didyou come, unless you meant that too?"

Cecily started a little and lay back in her chair. 

"Oh, I don't know, " she murmured despondently. "He hates me, but if he'soffered Blent and me he'll--he'll take us both, Mina, you know he will. "An indignant rush of color came on her cheeks. "Oh, it's very easy foryou!"

In a difficulty of that sort it did not seem that even Mr Disney couldbe of much avail. 

"Oh, you Tristrams!" cried Mina in despair. 

XIX

IN THE MATTER OF BLINKHAMPTON

Pity for the commander who, while engaging the enemy on his front withvalor and success, breaking his line and driving him from his position, finds himself assailed in the rear by an unexpected or despised foe andthe prize of victory suddenly wrenched from him! His fate is more bitterthan if he had failed in his main encounter, his self-reproaches morekeen. 

Major Duplay was awakening to the fact that this was his situation. Triumph was not his although Harry Tristram had fled from the battle. Iver's carefully guarded friendliness and the touch of motherlycompassion in his wife's manner, Mrs Trumbler's tacit request (conveyedby a meek and Christian sympathy) that he should bow to the will ofProvidence, Miss S. 's malicious questions as to where he meant to spendthe winter after leaving Merrion, told him the opinion of the world. Janie Iver had begun to think flirtation wrong; and there was analtogether new and remarkable self-assertion about Bob Broadley. Thelast thing annoyed Duplay most. It is indeed absurd that a young man, formerly of a commendable humility, should think a change of demeanorjustified merely because one young woman, herself insignificant, choosesfor reasons good or bad to favor him. Duplay assumed to despise Bob; itis often better policy to despise people than to enter into competitionwith them, and it is always rash to do both. These and other truths--as, for example, that for some purposes it is better not to beforty-four--the Major was learning. Was there any grain of comfort? Itlay in the fact that he was forty-four. A hypothetical, now impossible, yet subtly soothing Major of thirty routed Bob Broadley and carried allbefore him. In other words Duplay was driven back to the Last Ditch ofConsolation. What we could have done is the latest-tried plaster for thewound of what we cannot do; it would be wise to try it sometimes alittle earlier. 

From the orthodox sentimentalist he could claim no compassion. He hadlost not his heart's love but a very comfortable settlement; he waswounded more in his vanity than in his affections; he had wasted not hislife, only one of his few remaining effective summers. But the more lax, who base their views on what men generally are, may spare him one ofthose less bitter tears which they appropriate to the misfortunes ofothers. If the tear as it falls meets a smile, --why not? Such encountersare hardly unexpected and may well prove agreeable. 

There was another disconsolate person in the valley of the Blent--littleMr Gainsborough, left alone in the big house with a note from hisdaughter commanding him to stay there and to say nothing to anybody. Hewas lonely, and nervous with the servants; the curios gave him smallpleasure since he had not bought them, and, if he had, they would nothave been cheap. For reasons before indicated, Blentmouth and thecuriosity-shop there had become too dangerous. Besides, he had no money;Cecily had forgotten that detail in her hurried flight. A man cannotspend more than a portion of his waking hours in a library or overpedigrees. Gainsborough found himself regretting London and the littlehouse. If we divide humanity into those who do things and those who haveto get out of the way while they are being done (just as reasonable adivision as many adopted by statisticians) Gainsborough belonged to thelatter class; like most of us perhaps, but in a particularlyunmistakable degree. And he knew he did--not perhaps like most of us inthat. He never thought even of appealing to posterity. 

Meanwhile Janie Iver was behaving as a pattern daughter, cherishing hermother and father and making home sweet, exercising, in fact, thatprudent economy of wilfulness which preserves it for one great decisivestruggle, and scorns to fritter it away on the details of daily life. Girls have adopted these tactics from the earliest days (so it isrecorded or may be presumed), and wary are the parents who are nothoodwinked by them or, even if they perceive, are altogether unsoftened. Janie was very saintly at Fairholme; the only sins which she could havefound to confess (not that Mr Trumbler favored confession--quite thecontrary) were certain suppressions of truth touching the direction inwhich she drove her dog-cart--and even these were calculated to avoidthe giving of pain. As for the Tristrams--where were they? They seemedto have dropped out of Janie's story. 

Iver needed comfort. There is no disguising it, however much theadmission may damage him in the eyes of that same orthodoxsentimentalist. He had once expounded his views to Mr Jenkinson Neeld(or rather one of his expositions of them has been recorded, therehaving been more than one)--and the present situation did not satisfythem. Among other rehabilitations and whitewashings, that of the cruelfather might well be undertaken by an ingenious writer; if Nero had hada grown-up daughter there would have been the chance! Anyhow the attemptwould have met with some sympathy from Iver. Of course a man desires hisdaughter's happiness (the remark is a platitude), but he may be allowedto feel annoyance at the precise form in which it realizes--or thinksit will realize--itself, a shape that may disappoint the aim of hiscareer. If he is provided with a son, he has the chance of a moreunselfish benevolence; but Iver was not. Let all be said that could besaid--Bob Broadley was a disappointment. Iver would, if put to it, havepreferred Duplay. There was at least a cosmopolitan polish about theMajor; drawing-rooms would not appal him nor the thought of going toCourt throw him into a perspiration. Iver had been keen to find out thetruth about Harry Tristram, as keen as Major Duplay. At this moment bothof them were wishing that the truth had never been discovered by themnor flung in the face of the world by Harry himself. 

"But darling Janie will be happy, " Mrs Iver used to say. She hadsurrendered very easily. 

He was not really an unnatural parent because he growled once or twice, "Darling Janie be hanged!" It was rather his wife's attitude of mindthat he meant to condemn. 

Bob himself was hopeless from a parent's point of view. He was actuallya little touched by Mrs Trumbler's way of looking at the world; he didthink--and confessed it to Janie--that there was something veryremarkable in the way Harry Tristram had been cleared from his path. Hewas in no sense an advanced thinker, and people in love are apt tobelieve in what are called interpositions. Further, he was primitive inhis ideas; he had won the lady, and that seemed to him enough. It wasenough, if he could keep her; and in these days that really depends onherself. Moreover he had no doubt of keeping her; his primitivenessappears again; with the first kiss he seemed to pass from slave tomaster. Many girls would have taught him better. Janie was not one. Sheseemed rather to acquiesce, being, it must be presumed, also of asomewhat primitive cast of mind. It was terribly clear to Iver that thepair would stand to one another and settle down in ingloriouscontentment together for their lives. Yes, it was worse than Duplay;something might have been made of him. As for Harry--Iver used to end bythinking how sensible a man old Mr Neeld was; for Mr Neeld haddetermined to hold his tongue. 

There was another vexation, of a different kind indeed, but also a checkin his success. Blinkhampton was not going quite right. Blinkhampton wasa predestined seaside resort on the South Coast, and Iver, with certainassociates, meant to develop it. They had bought it up, and laid it outfor building, and arranged for a big hotel with Birch & Company, thefamous furnishers. But all along in front of it--between where thestreet now was and the esplanade was soon to be--ran a long narrowstrip, forming the estate of an elderly gentleman named Masters. Ofcourse Masters had to be bought out, the whole scheme hanging on that. Iver, keen at a bargain, hard in business hours (had not Mina Zabriskadiscovered that?), confident that nobody would care to incur hisenmity--he was powerful--by forestalling him, had refused Masters hisprice; the old gentleman would have to come down. But some young menstepped in, with the rashness of their youth, and acquired an option ofpurchase from Masters. Iver smiled in a vexed fashion, but was notdismayed. He let it be known that anybody who advanced money to theyoung men--Sloyd, Sloyd, and Gurney was the firm--would be his enemies;then he waited for the young men to approach him. They did not come. Atlast, pride protesting, prudence insisting, he wrote and suggested thatthey might probably be glad to make an arrangement with him. MrSloyd--our Mr Sloyd--wrote back that they had found a capitalist--noless than that--and proposed to develop their estate themselves, to putup their own hotel, also a row of boarding-houses, a club, a wintergarden, and possibly an aquarium. Youth and a sense of elation causedSloyd to add that they would always be glad to cooperate with othergentlemen interested in Blinkhampton. 

Iver had many irons in the fire; he could no more devote himselfexclusively and personally to Blinkhampton than Napoleon could spend allhis time in the Peninsula. The transaction was important, yet hardlyvital; besides Iver himself could keep his ear to the telephone. It wasan opportunity for Bob to win his spurs; Iver proposed to him to go totown and act as his representative. 

"I'm afraid you'll lose the game if I play it for you, Mr Iver, "responded Bob, with a shake of his head and a good-humored smile. "I'mnot accustomed to that sort of job, you know. "

"It would be a good chance for you to begin to learn something ofbusiness. "

"Well, you see, farming's my business. And I don't think I'm a fool atthat. But building speculations and so on----" Bob shook his head again. 

The progressive man gazed in wonder at the stationary. (We dividehumanity again. )

"You've no desire for--for a broader sphere?" he asked. 

"Well, I like a quiet life, you see--with my horses, and my crops, andso on. Don't believe I could stand the racket. " So far as physique wasconcerned, Bob could have stood penal servitude and a London Seasoncombined. 

"But it's an opening, " Iver persisted, by now actually more puzzled thanangry. "If you found yourself at home in the work, it might lead toanything. " He resisted the temptation to add, "Look at me!" Did notFairholme, its lawns and green-houses, say as much for him?

"But I don't know that I want anything, " smiled Bob. "Of course I'llhave a shot if it'll oblige you, " he added. "But---- Well, I'd rathernot risk it, you know. "

Janie was there. Iver turned to her in despair. She was smiling at Bobin an approving understanding way. 

"It really isn't what would suit Bob, father, " said she. "Besides, if hewent into your business, we should have to be so much in town and hardlyever be at home at Mingham. "

At home at Mingham! What a destiny! Certainly Blent was in the samevalley, but---- Well, a "seat" is one thing, and a farm's another; theworld is to blame again, no doubt. And with men who want nothing, forwhom the word "opening" has no magic, what is to be done? Abstractlythey are seen to be a necessary element in the community; but they donot make good sons or sons-in-law for ambitious men. Janie, when she hadseen Bob, an unrepentant cheerful Bob, on his way, came back to find herfather sitting sorrowful. 

"Dearest father, I'm so sorry, " she said, putting her arms round hisneck. 

He squared his shoulders to meet facts; he could always do that. Moreover he looked ahead--that power was also among his gifts--and sawhow presently this thing, like other things, would become a matter ofcourse. 

"That's settled, Janie, " said he. "I've made my last suggestion. "

She went off in distress to her mother, but was told to "let him alone. "The wisdom of woman and of years spoke. Presently Iver went out to playgolf. But his heart was still bitter within him; he could not resistthe sight of a possible sympathizer; he mentioned to the Major, who washis antagonist in the game, that it was not often that a young fellowrefused such a chance as he had just offered in vain to Bob Broadley. His prospective relationship to Bob had reached the stage of beingassumed between Duplay and him, although it had not yet been explicitlymentioned. 

"I wish somebody would try me!" laughed the Major. "I'm kicking my heelsall day down here. "

Iver made no reply and played the round in silence. He lost, perhapsbecause he was thinking of something else. He liked Duplay, he thoughthim clever, and, looking back on the history of the Tristram affair, hefelt somehow that he would like to do the Major a good turn. Were theynot in a sense companions in misfortune?

Two days later Duplay sat in the offices of Sloyd, Sloyd, and Gurney, asIver's representative; his mission was to represent to the youthful firmthe exceeding folly of their conduct in regard to Blinkhampton. Hisready brain had assimilated all the facts, and they lost nothing by hisready tongue. He even made an impression on the enemy. 

"It doesn't do to look at one transaction only, Mr Sloyd, " he remindedthe spruce but rather nervous young man. "It'll pay you to treat usreasonably. Mr Iver's a good friend to have and a bad enemy. "

"I'm quite alive to all that; but we have obtained a legitimateadvantage and----" Sloyd was evidently a little puzzled, and he glancedat the clock. 

"We recognize that; we offer you two thousand pounds. We take over youroption and give you two thousand. " This was the figure that Iver and hehad decided would tempt the young firm; their fear of the great Mr Iverwould make them content with that. 

Sloyd was half inclined to be content; the firm would make a thousand;the balance would be good interest on the capitalist's ten thousandpounds; and there would still be enough of a victory to soothe thefeelings of everybody concerned. 

"I'm expecting the gentleman who is associated with us. If you'll excuseme, I'll step out and see if he's arrived. "

Duplay saw through the suggestion, but he had no objection to permittinga consultation. He lit his cigar and waited while Sloyd was away. TheMajor was in greater contentment with himself than he had been since herecognized his defeat. Next to succeeding, it is perhaps the pleasantestthing to make people regret that you have not succeeded. If he provedhis capacity Iver would regret what had happened more; possibly evenJanie would come to regret it. And he was glad to be using his brainsagain. If they took the two thousand, if Iver got the Masters estate andentire control of Blinkhampton for twenty-two thousand, Duplay wouldhave had a hand in a good bargain. He thought the Sloyds would yield. "Be strong about it, " Iver had said. "These young fellows have plenty ofenterprise, plenty of shrewdness, but they haven't got the grit to takebig chances. They'll catch at a certainty. " Sloyd's manner had gone farto bear out this opinion. 

Sloyd returned, but, instead of coming in directly, he held the door andallowed another to pass in front of him. Duplay jumped up with amuttered exclamation. What the deuce was Harry Tristram doing there?Harry advanced, holding out his hand. 

"We neither of us thought we should meet in this way, Major Duplay? Theworld's full of surprises. I've learnt that anyhow, and I dare sayyou've known it a long while. "

"You're in this business?" cried the Major, too astonished for anypreamble. 

Harry nodded. "Let's get through it, " he said. "Because it's verysimple. Sloyd and I have made up our minds exactly what we ought tohave. "

It was the same manner that the Major remembered seeing by thePool--perhaps a trifle less aggressive, but making up for that by aneven increased self-confidence. Duplay had thought of his formersuccessful rival as a broken man. He was not that. He had never thoughtof him as a speculator in building land. Seemingly that was what he hadbecome. 

Harry sat down by the table, Sloyd standing by him and spreading outbefore him a plan of Blinkhampton and the elevation of a row ofbuildings. 

"You ask us, " Harry went on resentfully, almost accusingly, "to throw upthis thing just when we're ready to go ahead. Everything's in train; wecould begin work to-morrow. "

"Come, come, where are you going to get the money?" interrupted Duplay. He felt that he must assert himself. 

"Never mind, we can get it; or we can wait till we do. We shut you outjust as badly whether we leave the old buildings or put up new. However, we shall get it. I'm satisfied as to that. "

"You've heard my offer?"

"Yes, " smiled Harry. "The reward for getting ahead of Mr Iver is, itseems, two thousand pounds. It must be done pretty often if it's ascheap as that! I hope he's well?"

"Quite well, Mr Tristram, thank you. But when you talk of getting aheadof him----"

"Well, I put it plainly; that's all. I'm new to this, and I dare saySloyd here would put it better. But my money's in it, so I like to havemy say. "

Both the dislike and the reluctant respect of old days were present inthe Major's mind. He felt that the quality on whose absence Iver hadbased his calculations had been supplied. Harry might be ignorant. Sloydcould supply the knowledge. Harry had that grit which hitherto the firmhad lacked. Harry seemed to guess something of what was passing throughhis adversary's mind. 

"I don't want to be anything but friendly. Neither Sloyd nor I wantthat--especially toward Mr Iver--or toward you, Major. We've beenneighbors. " He smiled and went on, smiling still: "Oddly enough, I'vesaid what I'm going to say to you once before--on a different occasion. You seem to have been trying to frighten us. I am not to be frightened, that's all. "

Sloyd whispered in his ear; Duplay guessed that he counselled moreurbanity; Harry turned from him with a rather contemptuous little laugh. "Oh, I've got my living to earn now, " Duplay heard him whisper--andreflected that he had never wasted much time on politeness, even beforethat necessity came upon him. 

It was strange that Sloyd did not try to take any part in thediscussion. He wore an air of deference, partly due no doubt to Harry'sability, yet having unmistakably a social flavor about it. Harry'slordlinesses clung to him still, and had their effect on his businesspartner. Duplay lodged an angry inward protest to the effect that theyhad none whatever on him. 

"Perhaps I'd better just say what we want, " Harry pursued. "We've paidMasters twenty thousand. We may be five hundred more out of pocket. Never mind that. " He pushed away the plans and elevations. "You'reempowered to treat, I suppose?" he asked. Sloyd had whispered to himagain. 

"No, " said Duplay. "But as a final offer, I think I can pledge Mr Iverto go as far as five thousand (over and above the twenty thousand ofcourse)--to cover absolutely everything, you know. "

"Multiply your twenty-five by two, and we're your men, " said Harry. 

"Multiply it by two? Fifty thousand? Oh, nonsense!"

"Twenty out of pocket--thirty profit. I call it very reasonable. "

Major Duplay rose with a decisive air. 

"I'm afraid I'm wasting your time, " he said, "and my own too. I must saygood-afternoon. "

"Pray, Major Duplay, don't be so abrupt, sir. We've----" It was Sloydwho spoke, with an eager gesture as though he would detain the visitor. Harry turned on him with his ugliest haughtiest scowl. 

"I thought you'd left this to me, Sloyd?" he said. 

Sloyd subsided, apologetic but evidently terrified. Alas, that the grithad been supplied! But for that a triumph must have awaited the Major. Harry turned to Duplay. 

"I asked you before if you'd authority to treat. I ask you now if you'veauthority to refuse to treat. "

"I've authority to refuse to discuss absurdities. "

"Doubtless. And to settle what are absurdities? Look here. I don't askyou to accept that proposal without referring to Mr Iver. I merely saythat is the proposal, and that we give Mr Iver three days to considerit. After that our offer is withdrawn. "

Sloyd was biting his nails--aye, those nails that he got trimmed inRegent Street twice a week; critical transactions must bring grist tothose skilled in manicure. Duplay glanced from his troubled face toHarry's solid, composed, even amused mask. 

"And you might add, " Harry went on, "that it would be a very good thingif Mr Iver saw his way to run up and have a talk with me. I think Icould make him see the thing from our point of view. " Something seemedto occur to him. "You must tell him that in ordinary circumstances Ishould propose to call on him and to come wherever he was, but--well, he'll understand that I don't want to go to Blentmouth just now. "

The implied apology relieved what Duplay had begun to feel anintolerable arrogance, but it was a concession of form only, and did nottouch the substance. The substance was and remained an ultimatum. TheMajor felt aggrieved; he had been very anxious to carry his firstcommission through triumphantly and with _éclat_. For the second timeHarry Tristram was in his path. 

Harry rose. "That's all we can do to-day, " he said. "We shall wait tohear from Mr Iver. "

"I really don't feel justified in putting such a proposition beforehim. "

"Oh, that's for you to consider, " shrugged Harry. "I think I wouldthough, if I were you. At the worst, it will justify you in refusing todo business with us. Do you happen to be walking down toward Pall Mall?"Sloyd's offices were in Mount Street. "Good-day, Sloyd. I'll drop into-morrow. "

With an idea that some concession might still be forthcoming, not fromany expectation of enjoying his walk, the Major consented to accompanyHarry. 

"It was a great surprise to see you appear, " he said as they started. "So odd a coincidence!"

"Not at all, " smiled Harry. "You guess why I went into it? No? Well, ofcourse, I know nothing about such things really. But Sloyd happened tomention that Iver wanted to buy, so I thought the thing must be worthbuying, and I looked into it. " He laughed a little. "That's one of thepenalties of a reputation like Iver's, isn't it?"

"But I didn't know you'd taken to business at all. "

"Oh, one must do something. I can't sit down on four hundred a year, youknow. Besides, this is hardly business. By-the-bye, though, I ought tobe as much surprised to see you. We've both lost our situation, is thatit, Major?"

Insensibly the Major began to find him rather pleasanter, not a man hewould ever like really, but all the same more tolerable than he had beenat Blent; so Harry's somewhat audacious reference was received with agrim smile. 

"I knocked you out, you know, " Harry pursued. "Left to himself, I don'tbelieve old Bob Broadley would ever have moved. But I put him up to it. "

"What?" Duplay had not expected this. 

"Well, you tried to put me out, you see. Besides, Janie Iver liked him, and she didn't care about you--or me either, for that matter. So justbefore I--well, disappeared--I told Bob that he'd win if he went ahead. And I gather he has won, hasn't he?"

A brief nod from Duplay answered him; he was still revolving the newsabout Bob Broadley. 

"I'm afraid I haven't made you like me any better, " said Harry with alaugh. "And I don't go out of my way to get myself disliked. Do you seewhy I mentioned that little fact about Bob Broadley just now?"

"I confess I don't, unless you wished to annoy me. Or--pardon--perhapsyou thought it fair that I should know?"

"Neither the one nor the other. I didn't do it from the personal pointof view at all. You see, Bob had a strong position--and didn't know it. "

Duplay glanced at him. "Well, " he said, "what you did didn't help you, though it hurt me perhaps. "

"I told him he had a strong position. Then he took it. Hullo, here weare in Pall Mall. Now you see, don't you, Major?"

"No, I don't. " Duplay was short in manner again. 

"You don't see any parallel between Bob's position and our friend's upthere in Mount Street?" Harry laughed again as he held out his hand. "Well, you tell the story to Iver and see if he does, " he suggested. 

"Oh, that's what you mean?" growled Duplay. 

"Yes, " assented Harry, almost gleefully. "That's what I mean; only thistime it won't hurt you, and I think it will help me. You've done all youcould, you know. "

The touch of patronage came again. Duplay had hard work to keep histemper under. Yet now it was rather annoyance that he felt than theblack dislike that he used to harbor. Harry's misfortune had lessenedthat. If only Harry had been more chastened by his misfortune theannoyance might have gone too. Unfortunately, the young man seemedalmost exultant. 

"Well, good-by. Write to Sloyd--unless Iver decides to come up. Anddon't forget that little story about Bob Broadley! Because you'll findit useful, if you think of frightening Sloyd. He can't move withoutme--and I don't move without my price. "

"You moved from Blent, " Duplay reminded him, stung to a sudden malice. 

"Yes, " said Harry thoughtfully. "Yes, so I did. Well, I suppose I had myprice. Good-by. " He turned away and walked quickly down the street. 

"What was his price?" asked the Major, puzzled. He was not aware thatHarry had got anything out of his surrender; and even Harry himselfseemed rather to conclude that, since he had moved, he must have got hisprice than to say that he had got it or to be able to tell what it was. 

But all that was not the question now. Duplay sought the telegraphoffice and informed Iver of the uncompromising attitude of the enemy. Headded that Harry Tristram was in the business and that Harry suggestedan interview. It was perhaps the most significant tribute that Harry hadyet received when, after a few minutes of surprise and a few more ofconsideration, Iver telegraphed back that he would come up to town, andwished an appointment to be made for him with Mr Tristram. It wassomething to force Napoleon to come to the Peninsula. 

In fact, the only thing that could upset Iver's plans was blankdefiance. Reviewing his memories of Harry Tristram, he knew thatdefiance was just what he had to fear. It was in the blood of theTristrams, and prudence made no better a resistance than propriety. 

XX

THE TRISTRAM WAY--A SPECIMEN

Harry Tristram had led Lady Evenswood to believe that he would informhimself of his cousin's state of mind, or even open direct communicationwith her. He had done nothing to redeem this implied promise, althoughthe remembrance of it had not passed out of his mind. But he wasdisinclined to fulfil it. In the first place, he was much occupied withthe pursuits and interests of his new life; secondly, he saw no way toapproach her in which he would not seem a disagreeable reminder; hemight even be taken for a beggar or at least regarded as a reproachfulsuppliant. The splendor, the dramatic effect of his surrender and of thescene which had led up to it, would be endangered and probably spoilt bya resumption of intercourse between them. His disappearance had beenmagnificent--no other conclusion could explain the satisfaction withwhich he looked back on the episode. There was no material yet for areappearance equally striking. When he thought about her--which was notvery often just now--it was not to say that he would never meet heragain; he liked her too well, and she was too deeply bound up with theassociations of his life for that; but it was to decide to postpone themeeting, and to dream perhaps of some progress or turn of events whichshould present him with his opportunity, and invest their renewedacquaintance with an atmosphere as unusual and as stimulating as that inwhich their first days together had been spent. Thus thinking of heronly as she affected him, he remained at heart insensible to the aspectof the case which Lady Evenswood had commended to his notice. Cecily'spossible unhappiness did not come home to him. After all, she hadeverything and he nothing--and even he was not insupportably unhappy. His idea, perhaps, was that Blent and a high position would console mostfolk for somebody else's bad luck; men in bad luck themselves willeasily take such a view as that; their intimacy makes a second-handacquaintance with sorrow seem a trifling trouble. 

Yet he had known his mother well. And he had made his surrender. Well, only a very observant man can tell what his own moods may be; it is toomuch to ask anybody to prophesy another's; and the last thing a manappreciates is the family peculiarities--unless he happens not to sharethem. 

Southend was working quietly; aided by Jenkinson Neeld, he had preparedan elaborate statement and fired it in at Mr Disney's door, himselfretreating as hastily as the urchin who has thrown a cracker. LadyEvenswood was trying to induce her eminent cousin to come to tea. TheImp, in response to that official missive which had made such animpression on her, was compiling her reminiscences of Heidelberg andAddie Tristram. Everybody was at work, and it was vaguely understoodthat Mr Disney was considering the matter, at least that he had notconsigned all the documents to the waste-paper basket and the writers toperdition--which was a great point gained with Mr Disney. "No hurry, give me time"--"don't push it"--"wait"--"do nothing"--"the _statusquo_"--all these various phrases expressed Lord Southend's earnest andre-iterated advice to the conspirators. A barony had, in his judgment, begun to be a thing which might be mentioned without a smile. And theviscounty--Well, said Lady Evenswood, if Robert were once convinced, the want of precedents would not stop him; precedents must, after all, be made, and why should not Robert make them?

This then, the moment when all the wise and experienced people wereagreed that nothing could, should, or ought to be done, was the chancefor a Tristram. Addie would have seized it without an instant'shesitation; Cecily, her blood unavoidably diluted with a strain ofGainsborough, took two whole days to make the plunge--two days and astruggle, neither of which would have happened had she been Addie. Butshe did at last reach the conclusion that immediate action wasnecessary, that she was the person to act, that she could endure no moredelay, that she must herself go to Harry and do the one terrible thingwhich alone suited, met, and could save the situation. It was veryhorrible to her. Here was its last and irresistible fascination. Minasupplied Harry's address--ostensibly for the purpose of a letter;nothing else was necessary but a hansom cab. 

In his quiet room in Duke Street, Harry was working out some details ofthe proposed buildings at Blinkhampton. Iver was to come to town nextday, and Harry thought that the more entirely ready they seemed to goon, the more eager Iver would be to stop them; so he was at it with hiselevations, plans, and estimates. It was just six o'clock, and a coupleof quiet hours stretched before him. Nothing was in his mind exceptBlinkhampton; he had forgotten himself and his past fortunes, Blent andthe rest of it; he had even forgotten the peculiarities of his ownfamily. He heard with most genuine vexation that a lady must see him onurgent business; but he had not experience enough to embolden him tosend word that he was out. 

Such a message would probably have availed nothing. Cecily was alreadyat the door; she was in the room before he had done giving directionsthat she should be admitted. Again the likeness which had already workedon him so powerfully struck him with unlessened force; for its sake hesprang forward to greet her and met her outstretched hands with his. There was no appearance of embarrassment about her, rather a greatgladness and a triumph in her own courage in coming. She seemed quitesure that she had done the right thing. 

"You didn't come to me, so I came to you, " she explained, as though theexplanation were quite sufficient. 

She brought everything back to him very strongly--and in a momentbanished Blinkhampton. 

"Does anybody know you've come?"

"No, " she smiled. That was a part of the fun. "Mina didn't know I wasgoing out. You see everybody's been doing something except me and----"

"Everybody doing something? Doing what?"

"Oh, never mind now. Nothing of any real use. "

"There's nothing to do, " said Harry with a smile and a shrug. 

She was a little disappointed to find him looking so well, so cheerful, so busy. But the new impression was not strong enough to upset thepreconceptions with which she had come. "I've come to tell you I can'tbear it, " she said. "Oh, why did you ever do it, Harry?"

"On my honor I don't know, " he admitted after a moment's thought. "Won'tyou sit down?" He watched her seat herself, actually hoping for thefamous attitude. But she was too excited for it. She sat upright, herhands clasped on her knees. Her air was one of gravity, of tremulousimportance. She realized what she was going to do; if she had failed tounderstand its very unusual character she would probably never have doneit at all. 

"I can't bear this state of things, " she began. "I can't endure it anylonger. "

"Oh, I can, I'm all right. I hope you haven't been worrying?"

"Worrying! I've robbed you, robbed you of everything. Oh, I know you didit yourself! That makes it worse. How did I come to make you do it?"

"I don't know, " he said again. "Well, you seemed so in your place atBlent. Somehow you made me feel an interloper. And----" He paused amoment. "Yes, I'm glad, " he ended. 

"No, no, you mustn't be glad, " she cried quickly. "Because it'sunendurable, unendurable!"

"To you? It's not to me. I thought it might be. It isn't. "

"Yes, to me, to me! Oh, end it for me, Harry, end it for me!"

She was imploring, she was the suppliant. The reversal of parts, strangein itself, hardly seemed strange to Harry Tristram. And it made himquite his old self again. He felt that he had something to give. But hernext words shattered that delusion. 

"You must take it back. Let me give it back to you, " she prayed. 

He was silent a full minute before he answered slowly and coldly:

"From anybody else I should treat that as an insult; with you I'mwilling to think it merely ignorance. In either case the absurdity's thesame. " He turned away from her with a look of distaste, almost ofdisgust. "How in the world could you do it?" he added by way of climax. 

"I could do it. In one way I could. " She rose as he turned back to her. "I want you to have Blent. You're the proper master of Blent. Do youthink I want to have it by accident?"

"You have it by law, not by accident, " he answered curtly. He wasgrowing angry. "Why do you come here and unsettle me?" he demanded. "Iwasn't thinking of it. And then you come here!"

She was apologetic no longer. She faced him boldly. 

"You ought to think of it, " she insisted. "And, yes, I've come herebecause it was right for me to come, because I couldn't respect myselfunless I came. I want you to take back Blent. "

"What infernal nonsense!" he exclaimed. "You know it's impossible. "

"No, " she said; she was calm but her breath came quick. "There's one wayin which it's possible. "

In an instant he understood her; there was no need of more words. Sheknew herself to be understood as she looked at him; and for a while shelooked steadily. But his gaze too was long, and it became verysearching, so that presently, in spite of her efforts, she felt herselfflushing red, and her eyes fell. The room had become uncomfortably quiettoo. At last he spoke. 

"I suppose you remember what I told you about Janie Iver, " he said, "andthat's how you came to think I might do this. You must see that that wasdifferent. I gave as much as I got there. She was rich, I was----" Hesmiled sourly. "I was Tristram of Blent. You are Tristram of Blent, Iam----" He shrugged his shoulders. 

He made no reference to the personal side of the case. She was not hurt, she was enormously relieved. 

"I'm not inclined to be a pensioner on my wife, " he said. 

She opened her lips to speak; she was within an ace of telling him that, if this and that went well, he would have so assured and recognized aposition that none could throw stones at him. Her words died away inface of the peremptory finality of his words and the bitter anger onhis face. She sat silent and forlorn, wondering what had become of herresolve and her inspiration. 

"In my place you would feel as I do, " he said a moment later. His tonewas milder. "You can't deny it, " he insisted. "Look me in the face anddeny it if you can. I know you too well. "

For some minutes longer she sat still. Then she got up with a desolateair. Everything seemed over; the great offer, with its great scene, hadcome to very little. Anticlimax, foe to emotion! She remembered how thescene in the Long Gallery had gone. So much better, so much better! ButHarry dominated her--and he had stopped the scene. Without attempting tobid him any farewell she moved toward the door slowly and drearily. 

She was arrested by his voice--a new voice, very good-natured, ratherchaffing. 

"Are you doing anything particular to-night?" he asked. 

She turned round; he was smiling at her in an open but friendlyamusement. 

"No, " she murmured. "I'm going back home, I suppose. "

"To Blent?" he asked quickly. 

"No, to our house. Mina's there and----" Her face was puzzled; she lefther sentence unfinished. 

"Well, I've got nothing to do. Let's have dinner and go somewheretogether?"

Their eyes met. Gradually Cecily's lightened into a sparkle as her lipsbent and her white teeth showed a little. She was almost laughingoutright as she answered readily, without so much as a show ofhesitation or a hint of surprise, "Yes. "

Nothing else can be so ample as a monosyllable is sometimes. If it hadbeen Harry's object to escape from a tragic or sensational situation hehad achieved it triumphantly. The question was no longer who should haveBlent, but where they should have dinner. Nothing in his manner showedthat he had risked and succeeded in a hazardous experiment; he hadbrought her down to the level of common-sense--that is, to his own viewof things; incidentally he had secured what he hoped would prove a verypleasant evening. Finally he meant to have one more word with her on thematter of her visit before they parted. His plan was very clear in hishead. By the end of the evening she would have forgotten the exaltedmood which had led her into absurdity; she would listen to a few wiseand weighty words--such as he would have at command. Then the ludicrousepisode would be over and done with forever; to its likeness, superficially at least rather strong, to that other scene in which hehad been chief actor his mind did not advert. 

A very pleasant evening it proved; so that it prolonged itself, naturally as it were and without express arrangement, beyond dinner andthe play, and embraced in its many hours a little supper and a longdrive in a cab to those distant regions where Cecily's house wassituated. There was no more talk of Blent; there was some of Harry's newlife, its features and its plans; there was a good deal about nothing inparticular; and there was not much of any sort as they drove along inthe cab at one o'clock in the morning. 

But Harry's purpose was not forgotten. He bade the cabman wait andfollowed Cecily into the house. He looked round it with lively interestand curiosity. 

"So this is where you came from!" he exclaimed with a compassionatesmile. "You do want something to make up for this!"

She laughed as she took off her hat and sank into a chair. "Yes, thisis--home, " she said. 

"Have you had a pleasant evening?" he demanded. 

"You know I have. "

"Are you feeling friendly to me?"

Now came the attitude; she threw herself into it and smiled. 

"That's what I wanted, " he went on. "Now I can say what I have to say. "

She sat still, waiting to hear him. There was now no sign of uneasinessabout her. She smiled luxuriously, and her eyes were resting on his facewith evident pleasure. They were together again as they had been in theLong Gallery; the same contentment possessed her. The inner feeling hadits outward effect. There came on him the same admiration, the samesense that she commanded his loyalty. When she had come to his roomsthat afternoon he had found it easy to rebuke and to rule her. Hisintent for the evening had been the same; he had sought to bring her toa more friendly mind chiefly that she might accept with greaterreadiness the chastening of cool common-sense, and a rebuke from thedecent pride which her proposal had outraged. Harry was amazed to findhimself suddenly at a loss, looking at the girl, hardly knowing how tospeak to her. 

"Well?" she said. Where now was the tremulous excitement? She wasmagnificently at her ease and commanded him to speak, if he had anythingto say. If not, let him hold his peace. 

But he was proud and obstinate too. They came to a conflict there in thelittle room--the forgotten cab waiting outside, the forgotten Minabeginning to stir in her bed as voices dimly reached her ears and sheawoke to the question--where was Cecily?

"If we're to be friends, " Harry began, "I must hear no more of what yousaid this afternoon. You asked me to be a pensioner, you proposedyourself to be----"

He did not finish. The word was not handy, or he wished to spare her. 

She showed no signs of receiving mercy. 

"Very well, " she said, smiling. "If you knew everything, you wouldn'ttalk like that. I suppose you've no idea what it cost me?"

"What it cost you?"

She broke into a scornful laugh. "You know what it really meant. Stillyou've only a scolding for me! How funny that you see one half and notthe other! But you've given me a very pleasant evening, Cousin Harry. "

"You must leave my life alone, " he insisted brusquely. 

"Oh, yes, for the future. I've nothing left to offer, have I? I havebeen--refused!" She seemed to exult in the abandonment of her candor. 

He looked at her angrily, almost dangerously. For a passing moment shehad a sensation of that physical fear from which no moral courage canwholly redeem the weak in body. But she showed none of it; her pose wasunchanged; only the hand on which her head rested shook a little. Andshe began to laugh. "You look as if you were going to hit me, " she said. 

"Oh, you do talk nonsense!" he groaned. But she was too much for him; helaughed too. She had spoken with such a grand security. "If you tell meto walk out of the door I shall go. "

"Well, in five minutes. It's very late. "

"Oh, we weren't bred in Bayswater, " he reminded her. 

"I was--in Chelsea. "

"So you say. I think in heaven--no, Olympus--really. "

"Have you said what you wanted to say, Cousin Harry?"

"I suppose you hadn't the least idea what you were doing?"

"I was as cool as you were when you gave me Blent. "

"You're cool enough now, anyhow, " he admitted, in admiration of herparry. 

"Quite, thanks. " The hand behind her head trembled sorely. His eyes wereon her, and a confusion threatened to overwhelm the composure of whichshe boasted. 

"I gave you Blent because it was yours. "

"What I offered you is mine. "

"By God, no. Never yours to give till you've lost it!"

With an effort she kept her pose. His words hummed through her head. 

"Did you say that to Janie Iver?" she mustered coolness to ask himmockingly. 

He thrust away the taunt with a motion of his hand; one ofGainsborough's gimcracks fell smashed on the floor. Cecily laughed, gladof the excuse to seem at her ease. 

"Hang the thing! If you'd loved me, you'd have been ashamed to do it. "

"I was ashamed without loving you, Cousin Harry. "

"Oh, do drop 'Cousin' Harry!"

"Well, I proposed to. But you wouldn't. " Her only refuge now was inquips and verbal victories. They served her well, for Harry, less masterof himself than usual, was hindered and tripped up by them. "Still, ifwe ever meet again, I'll say 'Harry' if you like. "

"Of course we shall meet again. " She surprised that out of him. 

"It'll be so awkward for me now, " she laughed lightly. But her mirthbroke off suddenly as he came closer and stood over her. 

"I could hate you for coming to me with that offer, " he said. 

Almost hating herself now, yet sorely wounded that he should think ofhating her, she answered him in a fury. 

"Well then, shouldn't I hate you for giving me Blent? That was worse. You could refuse, I couldn't. I have it, I have to keep it. " In herexcitement she rose and faced him. "And because of you I can't behappy!" she cried resentfully. 

"I see! I ought to have drowned myself, instead of merely going away?Oh, I know I owe the world at large apologies for my existence, and youin particular, of course! Unfortunately, though, I intend to go onexisting; I even intend to live a life of my own--not the life of ahanger-on--if you'll kindly allow me. "

"Would any other man in the world talk like this after----?"

"Any man who had the sense to see what you'd done. I'm bound to be anuisance to you anyhow. I should be least of a nuisance as your husband!That was it. Oh, I'm past astonishment at you. "

His words sounded savage, but it was not their fierceness that banishedher mirth. It was the new light they threw on that impulse of hers. Shecould only fall back on her old recrimination. 

"When you gave me Blent----"

"Hold your tongue about Blent, " he commanded imperiously. "If it weremine again, and I came to you and said, 'You're on my conscience, youfret me, you worry me. Marry me, and I shall be more comfortable!' Whatthen?"

"Why, it would be just like you to do it!" she cried in malicioustriumph. 

"The sort of thing runs in the family, then. " She started at theplainness of his sneer. "Oh, yes, that was it. Well, what would youranswer be? Shall I tell you? You'd ask the first man who came by to kickme out of the room. And you'd be right. "

The truth of his words pierced her. She flushed red, but she wasresolved to admit nothing. Before him, at any rate, she would cling toher case, to the view of her own action to which she stood committed. Heat least should never know that now at last he had made her bitterly andhorribly ashamed, with a shame not for what she had proposed to doherself, but for what she had dared to ask him to do. She saw the thingnow as he saw it. Had his manner softened, had he made any appeal, hadhe not lashed her with the bitterest words he could find, she would havebeen in tears at his feet. But now she faced him so boldly that he tookher flush to mean anger. He turned away from her and picked up his hatfrom the chair on which he had thrown it. 

"Well, that's all, isn't it?" he asked. 

Before she had time to answer, there was a cry from the doorway, full ofastonishment, consternation, and (it must be added) outraged propriety. For it was past two o'clock and Mina Zabriska, for all her freakishness, had been bred on strict lines of decorum. "Cecily!" she cried. "Andyou!" she added a moment later. They turned and saw her standing therein her dressing-gown, holding a candle. The sudden turn of events, theintroduction of this new figure, the intrusion that seemed so absurd, overcame Cecily. She sank back in her chair, and laid her head on herhands on the table, laughing hysterically. Harry's frown grew heavier. 

"Oh, you're there?" he said to Mina. "You're in it too, I suppose? I'vealways had the misfortune to interest you, haven't I? You wanted to turnme out first. Now you're trying to put me in again, are you? Oh, youwomen, can't you leave a man alone?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. And what are you doing here? Doyou know it's half-past two?"

"It would be all the same to me if it was half-past twenty-two, " saidHarry contemptuously. 

"You've been with her all the time?"

"Oh, lord, yes. Are you the chaperon?" He laughed, as he unceremoniouslyclapped his hat on his head. "We've had an evening out, my cousin and I, and I saw her home. And now I'm going home. Nothing wrong, I hope, Madame Zabriska?"

Cecily raised her head; she was laughing still, with tears in her eyes. 

Mina looked at her. Considerations of propriety fell into thebackground. 

"But what's it all about?" she cried. 

"I'll leave Cecily to tell you. " He was quiet now, but with a viciousquietness. "I've been explaining that I have a preference for being leftalone. Perhaps it may not be superfluous to mention the fact to you too, Madame Zabriska. My cab's waiting. Good-night. " He looked a moment atCecily, and his eyes seemed to dwell a little longer than he had meant. In a tone rather softer and more gentle he repeated, "Good-night. "

Cecily sprang to her feet. "I shall remember!" she cried. "I shallremember! If ever--if ever the time comes, I shall remember!" Her voicewas full of bitterness, her manner proudly defiant. 

Harry hesitated a moment, then smiled grimly. "I shouldn't be able tocomplain of that, " he said, as he turned and went out to his cab. 

Cecily threw herself into her chair again. The bewildered Imp stoodstaring at her. 

"I didn't know where you were, " Mina complained. 

"Oh, it doesn't matter. "

"Fancy being here with him at this time of night!"

Cecily gave no signs of hearing this superficial criticism on herconduct. 

"You must tell me what it's all about, " Mina insisted. 

Cecily raised her eyes with a weary air, as though she spoke of adistasteful subject unwillingly and to no good purpose. 

"I went to tell him he could get Blent back by marrying me. "

"Cecily!" Many emotions were packed into the cry. "What did he say?"

Cecily seemed to consider for a moment, then she answered slowly:

"Well, he very nearly beat me--and I rather wish he had, " she said. 

The net result of the day had distinctly not been to further certainschemes. All that had been achieved--and both of them had contributed toit--was an admirable example of the Tristram way. 

XXI

THE PERSISTENCE OF BLENT

Harry Tristram awoke the next morning with visions in his head--nounusual thing with young men, yet strange and almost unknown to him. They had not been wont to come at Blent, nor had his affair with JanieIver created them. Possibly a constant, although unconscious, referenceof all attractions to the standard, or the tradition, of AddieTristram's had hitherto kept him free; or perhaps it was merely thatthere were no striking attractions in the valley of the Blent. Anyhowthe visions were here now, a series of them covering all the hours ofthe evening before, and embodying for him the manifold changes offeeling which had marked the time. He saw himself as well as Cecily, andthe approval of his eyes was still for himself, their irritation forher. But he could not dismiss her from the pictures; he realized thiswith a new annoyance. He lay later than his custom was, looking at her, recalling what she had said as he found the need of words to writebeneath each mental apparition. Under the irritation, and greater thanit, was the same sort of satisfaction that his activities had givenhim--a feeling of more life and broader; this thing, though rising outof the old life, fitted in well with the new. Above all, that sentenceof hers rang in his head, its extravagance perhaps gaining pre-eminencefor it: "If ever the time comes, I shall remember!" The time did notseem likely to come--so far as he could interpret the vague and ratherthreadbare phrase--but her resolution stirred his interest, and ended byexacting his applause. He was glad that she had resisted, and had notallowed herself to be trampled on. Though the threat was very empty, itsutterance showed a high spirit, such a spirit as he still wished topreside over Blent. It was just what his mother might have said, with anequal intensity of determination and an equal absence of definitepurpose. But then the whole proceedings had been just what he couldimagine his mother bringing about. Consequently he was rather blind tothe extraordinary character of the step Cecily had taken; so far he wasof the same clay as his cousin. He was, however, none the less outragedby it, and none the less sure that he had met it in the right way. Yethe did not consider that there was any quarrel between them, and hemeant to see more of her; he was accustomed to "scenes" occurring andleaving no permanent estrangement or bitterness; the storms blew overthe sand, but they did not in the end make much difference in the sand. 

There was work to be done--the first grave critical bit of work he hadever had to do, the first real measuring of himself against an opponentof proved ability. So he would think no more about the girl. Thisresolve did not work. She, or rather her apparition, seemed to insistthat she had something to do with the work, was concerned in it, or atleast meant to look on at it. Harry found that he had small objection, or even a sort of welcome for her presence. Side by side with the man'spleasure in doing the thing, there was still some of the boy's delightin showing he could do it. What had passed yesterday, particularly thatidea of doing things for him which he had detected and raged at, made itadditionally pleasant that he should be seen to be capable of doingthings for himself. All this was vague, but it was in his mind as hewalked to Sloyd's offices. 

Grave and critical! Sloyd's nervous excitement and uneasy deferencetoward Iver were the only indications of any such thing. Duplay wasthere in the background, cool and easy. Iver himself was inclined togossip with Harry and to chaff him on the fresh departure he had made, rather than to settle down to a discussion of Blinkhampton. That wasafter all a small matter--so his manner seemed to assert; he had been intown anyhow, so he dropped in; Duplay had made a point of it in hisscrupulous modesty as to his own experience. Harry found that he couldresist the impression he was meant to receive only by saying to himselfas he faced his old friend and present antagonist: "But you'rehere--you're here--you're here!" Iver could neither gossip nor arguethat fact away. 

"Well now, " said Iver with a glance at his watch, "we must really get tobusiness. You don't want to live in Blinkhampton, you gentlemen, Isuppose? You want to leave a little better for your visit, eh? Quite so. That's the proper thing with the sea-side. But you can't expect to findfortunes growing on the beach. Surely Major Duplay mistook yourfigures?"

"Unless he mentioned fifty thousand, he did, " said Harry firmly. 

"H'm, I did you injustice, Major--with some excuse, though. Surely, MrSloyd----?" He turned away from Harry as he spoke. 

"I beg pardon, " interrupted Harry. "Am I to talk to Major Duplay?"

Iver looked at him curiously. "Well, I'd rather talk to you, Harry, " hesaid. "And I'll tell you plainly what I think. Mr Sloyd's a youngbusiness man--so are you. "

"I'm a baby, " Harry agreed. 

"And blackmailing big people isn't a good way to start. " He watchedHarry, but he did not forget to watch Sloyd too. "Of course I use theword in a figurative sense. The estate's not worth half that money toyou; we happen to want it--Oh, I'm always open!--So----" He gave ashrug. 

"Sorry to introduce new and immoral methods into business, Mr Iver. Itmust be painful to you after all these years. " Harry laughedgood-humoredly. "I shall corrupt the Major too!" he added. 

"We'll give you five thousand for your bargain--twenty-five in all. "

"I suggested to Major Duplay that being ahead of you was so rare anachievement that it ought to be properly recognized. "

Duplay whispered to Iver. Sloyd whispered to Harry. Iver listenedattentively, Harry with evident impatience. "Let it go for thirty, don'tmake an enemy of him, " had been Sloyd's secret counsel. 

"My dear Harry, the simple fact is that the business won't stand morethan a certain amount. If we put money into Blinkhampton, it's becausewe want it to come out again. Now the crop will be limited. " He paused. "I'll make you an absolutely final offer--thirty. "

"My price is fifty, " said Harry immovably. 

"Out of the question. "

"All right. " Harry lit a cigarette with an air of having finished thebusiness. 

"It simply cannot be done on the figures, " Iver declared with genuinevexation. "We've worked it out, Harry, and it can't be done. If I showedour calculations to Mr Sloyd, who is, I'm sure, willing to bereasonable----"

"Yes, Mr Iver, I am. I am, I hope, always desirous of--er--meetinggentlemen half-way; and nothing could give me greater pleasure than todo business with you, Mr Iver. "

"Unfortunately you seem to have--a partner, " Iver observed. "No, I'vetold you the most we can give. " He leant back in his chair. This time itwas he who had finished business. 

"And I've told you the least we can take. "

"It's hopeless. Fifty! Oh, we should be out of pocket. It's reallyunreasonable. " He was looking at Sloyd. "It's treating me as anenemy, --and I shall have no alternative but to accept the situation. Blinkhampton is not essential to me; and your hotel and so on won'tflourish much if I leave my tumble-down cottages and pigsties justbehind them. Will you put these papers together, Duplay?"

The Major obeyed leisurely. Sloyd was licking his lips and lookingacutely unhappy. 

"You're absolutely resolved, Harry?"

"Absolutely, Mr Iver. "

"Well, I give it up. It's bad for me, and it's worse for you. In all myexperience I never was so treated. You won't even discuss! If you'd saidthirty-five, well, I'd have listened. If you'd even said forty, I'dhave----"

"I say, done for forty!" said Harry quietly. "I'd a sort of idea all thetime that that might be your limit. I expect the thing really wouldn'tstand fifty, you know. Oh, that's just my notion. "

Iver's face was a study. He was surprised, he was annoyed, but he wasalso somewhat amused. Harry's acting had been good. That obstinate, uncompromising immutable fifty!--Iver had really believed in it. Andforty had been his limit--his extreme limit. He just saw his way tosquare his accounts satisfactorily if he were driven to pay that as thepenalty of one of his rare mistakes. He glanced at Sloyd; radiant joyand relief illumined that young man's face, as he gave his mustache anupward twirl. Duplay was smiling--yes, smiling. At last Iver smiled too. Harry was grave--not solemn--but merely not smiling because he did notperceive anything to smile at. No doubt he was gratified by the successof his tactics, and pleased that his formidable opponent had beendeceived by them. But he thought nothing of what impressed Iver most. The tactics had been, no doubt, well conceived and carried out, but theywere ordinary enough in their nature; Iver himself, and dozens of men hehad met, could have executed them as well. What struck him was thatHarry knew how far he could go, that he stopped on the verge, but notbeyond the boundary where a deal was possible. Mere guesswork could notaccount for that, nor had he commanded the sources of information whichwould have made the conclusion a matter of ordinary intelligentcalculation. No, he had intuitions; he must have an eye. Now eyes wererare; and when they were found they were to be used. Iver was muchsurprised at finding one in Harry. Yet it must be in Harry; Iver wascertain that Sloyd had known nothing of the plan of campaign or of thedecisive figure on which his associate had pitched. 

"I'll give you forty, " he said at last. "For the whole thing, lock, stock, and barrel--forty. "

"It's a bargain, " said Harry, and Iver, with a sigh (for forty was theextreme figure), pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. 

"We've got a good many plans, sir, " suggested Sloyd, very anxious toestablish pleasant relations. "I'm sure we should be very glad if youfound them of any service. "

"You're very good, Mr Sloyd, but----"

"You may as well have a look at them, " interrupted Harry. "There are oneor two good ideas. You'll explain them, won't you, Sloyd?"

Sloyd had already placed one in Iver's hand, who glanced at it, tookanother, compared them, and after a minute's pause held both out to theMajor. 

"Well, Duplay, suppose you look at them and hear anything that Mr Sloydis good enough to say, and report to me? You're at leisure?"

"Certainly, " said Duplay. He was in good humor, better perhaps than ifhis chief had proved more signally successful. Harry turned to him, smiling. 

"I saw Madame Zabriska last night, at Lady Tristram's house. She'sforsaken you, Major?"

"Mina's very busy about something, " smiled the Major. 

"Yes, she generally is, " said Harry, frowning a little. "If she tellsyou anything about me----"

"I'm not to believe it?"

"You may believe it, but not the way she puts it, " laughed Harry. 

"Now there's an end of business! Walk down to the Imperium with me, Harry, and have a bit of lunch. You've earned it, eh? How do you likethe feeling of making money?"

"Well, I think it might grow on a man. What's your experience?"

"Sometimes better than this morning, or I should hardly have been yourneighbor at Fairholme. "

The two walked off together, leaving Duplay and Sloyd very amicable. Iver was thoughtful. 

"You did that well, " he said as they turned the corner into BerkeleySquare. 

"I suppose I learnt to bluff a bit when I was at Blent. "

"That was all right, but--well, how did you put your finger on thefigure?"

"I don't know. It looked like being about that, you know. "

"It was very exactly that, " admitted Iver. 

"Rather a surprise to find our friend the Major going into business withyou. "

"He'll be useful, I think, and--well, I'm short of help. " He was eyingHarry now, but he said no more about the morning's transaction till theyreached the club. 

"Perhaps we shall find Neeld here, " he remarked, as they went in. 

They did find Neeld, and also Lord Southend, the latter gentleman in astate of disturbance about his curry. It was not what any man wouldseriously call a curry; it was no more than a fortuitous concurrence ofmutton and rice. 

"It's an extraordinary thing, " he observed to Iver, "that wheneverWilmot Edge is away, the curries in this club go to the devil--to thedevil. And he's always going off somewhere, confound him!"

"He can't be expected to stay at home just to look after your curry, "Iver suggested. 

"I suppose he's in South America, or South Africa, or South somewhere orother out of reach. Waiter!" The embarrassed servant came. "When isColonel Edge expected back?"

"In a few weeks, I believe, my Lord. "

"Who's Chairman of the Committee while he's away?"

"Mr Gore-Marston, my Lord. "

"There--what can you expect?" He pushed away his plate. "Bring me somecold beef, " he commanded, and the waiter brought it with an air thatsaid "Ichabod" for the Imperium. "As soon as ever Edge comes back, Ishall draw his attention to the curry. "

Everybody else had rather lost their interest in the subject. Neeld andHarry were in conversation. Iver sat down by Southend, and, while lunchwas preparing, endeavored to distract his mind by giving him a historyof the morning. Southend too was concerned in Blinkhampton. Graduallythe curry was forgotten as he listened to the story of Harry's victory. 

"Sort of young fellow who might be useful?" he suggested presently. 

"That's what I was thinking. He's quite ready to work too, I fancy. "

Southend regarded his friend. He was thinking that if this and thathappened--and they were things now within the bounds ofpossibility--Iver might live to be sorry that Harry was not to be hisson-in-law. Hastily and in ignorance he included Janie in the scope ofthis supposed regret. But at this moment the guilty and incompetent MrGore-Marston had the misfortune to come in. Southend, all his grievancerevived, fell on him tooth and nail. His defence was feeble; he admittedthat he knew next to nothing of curries, and--yes, the cook did getcareless when Wilmot Edge's vigilant eye was removed. 

"He'll be home soon, " Gore-Marston pleaded. "I've had a letter from him;he's just got back to civilization after being out in the wilderness, shooting, for six weeks. He'll be here in a month now, I think. "

"We shall have to salary him to stay, " growled Southend. 

Harry was amused at this little episode, and listened smiling. Possessing a knowledge of curries seemed an odd way to acquireimportance for a fellow-creature, a strange reason for a man's returnbeing desired. He knew who Wilmot Edge was, and it was funny to hear ofhim again in connection with curries. And curries seemed the only reasonwhy anybody should be interested in Colonel Edge's return. Not till theymet again in the smoking-room were the curries finally forgotten. 

In later days Harry came to look back on that afternoon as the beginningof many new things for him. Iver and Southend talked; old Mr Neeld satby, listening with the interest of a man who feels he has missedsomething in life and would fain learn, even though he is too old toturn the knowledge to account. Harry found himself listening too, but ina different way. 

They were not talking idly; they talked for him. That much he soondiscerned. And they were not offering to help him. His vigilant pride, still sore from the blow that Cecily had dealt it, was on the look-outfor that. But the triumph of the morning, no less than the manner of themen, reassured him. It is in its way an exciting moment for a young manwhen he first receives proof that his seniors, the men of actualachievement and admitted ability, think that there is something in him, that he can be of service to them, that it is in his power, if it be inhis will, to emerge from the ruck and take a leading place. Harry wasglad for himself; he would have been touched had he spared time toobserve how delighted old Neeld was on his account. They made him nogift; they asked work from him, and Iver, true to his traditions andingrained ideas, asked money as a guarantee for the work. "You give meback what I'm going to pay you, " he said, "and since you've taken suchan interest in Blinkhampton, turn to and see what you can make of it. Itlooked as if there was a notion or two worth considering in those plansof yours. "

Southend agreed to every suggestion with an emphatic nod. But there wassomething more in his mind. With every evidence of capability thatHarry showed, even with every increase in the chances of his attainingposition and wealth for himself, the prospect of success in the otherscheme--the scheme still secret--grew brighter. The thought of thatqueer little woman Madame Zabriska, Harry's champion, came into hismind. He would have something to tell her, if ever they met again atLady Evenswood's. He would have something to tell Lady Evenswood herselftoo. He quite forgot his curry--and Colonel Wilmot Edge, who derived hisimportance from it. 

Nothing was settled; there were only suggestions for Harry to thinkover. But he was left quite clear that everything depended on himselfalone, that he had only to will and to work, and a career of prosperousactivity was before him. The day had more than fulfilled its promise;what had seemed its great triumph appeared now to be valuable only as anintroduction and a prelude to something larger and more real. Already hewas looking back with some surprise on the extreme gravity which he hadattached to his little Blinkhampton speculation. He grew very readilywhere he was given room to grow; and all the while there was the impulseto show himself--and others too--that he did not depend on Blent or onhaving Blent. Blent or no Blent, he was a man who could make himselffelt. He was on his trial still of course; but he did not doubt of theverdict. When a thing depended for success or failure on Harry alone, Harry had never been in the habit of doubting the result. The Major hadnoticed that trait in days which seemed now quite long ago; the Majorhad not liked it, but in the affairs of life it probably had some value. 

Except for one thing he seemed to be well settled into his newexistence. People had stopped staring at him. They had almost ceased totalk of him. He was rapidly becoming a bygone story. Even to himself itseemed months since he had been Tristram of Blent; he had no idea thatany plans were afoot concerning him which found their basis andjustification in his having filled that position. Except for one thinghe was quit of it all. But that remained, and in such strength as tocolor all the new existence. The business of the day had not driven outthe visions of the morning. Real things should drive out fancies; it isserious, perhaps deplorable, when the real things seem to derive atleast half their importance from the relation that they bear to thefancies. Perhaps the proper conclusion would be that in such a case thefancies too have their share of reality. 

"Neeld and I go down to Fairholme to-morrow, Harry, " said Iver as theyparted. "No chance of seeing you down there, I suppose?"

Neeld thought the question rather brutal; Iver's feelings were notperhaps of the finest. But Harry was apparently unconscious of anythingthat grated. 

"Really, I don't suppose I shall ever go there again, " he answered witha laugh. "Off with the old love, you know, Mr Neeld!"

"Oh, don't say that, " protested Southend. 

There was a hint of some meaning in his speech which made Harry turn tohim with quick attention. 

"Blent's a mere memory to me, " he declared. 

The three elder men were silent, but they seemed to receive what he saidwith scepticism. 

"Well, that's the only way, isn't it?" he asked. 

"Just at present, I suppose, " Southend said to him in a low voice, as heshook hands. 

These few words, with the subdued hint they carried, reinforced thestrength of the visions. Harry was rather full of his own will and proudof his own powers just now--perhaps with some little excuse. But hebegan, thanks to the bearing of these men and to the obstinate thoughtsof his own mind, to feel, still dimly, that it was a difficult thing toforget and to get rid of the whole of a life, to make an entirely freshstart, to be quite a different man. Unsuspected chains revealedthemselves with each new motion toward liberty. Absolute detachment hadbeen his ideal. He awoke with a start to the fact that he was still, inthe main, living with and moving among people who smacked strong ofBlent, who had known him as Tristram of Blent, whose lives had crossedhis because he was Addie Tristram's son. That was true of even his newacquaintance Lady Evenswood--truer still of Neeld, of Southend, aye, ofSloyd and the Major--most true of his cousin Cecily. Thisinterdependence of its periods is what welds life into a whole; evenable and wilful young men have, for good and evil, to reckon with it. Otherwise morality would be in a bad case, and even logic rather at sea. The disadvantage is that the difficulties in the way of heroic ordramatic conduct are materially increased. 

Yes, he was not to escape, not to forget. That day one scene moreawaited him which rose out of Blent and belonged to Blent. The Imp madean appointment by telegram, and the Imp came. Harry could no longerregard his bachelor-chambers as any barrier against the incursions ofexcited young women. Anything that concerned the Tristrams seemednaturally antipathetic to conventions. He surrendered and let Mina in;that he wanted to see her--her for want of a better--was not recognizedby him. She was in a great temper, and he was soon inclined to regrethis accessibility. Still he endured; for it was an absolutely finalinterview, she said. She had just come to tell him what she thought ofhim--and there was an end of it. Then she was going back to Merrion andshe hoped Cecily was coming with her. He--Harry--would not be thereanyhow!

"Certainly not, " he agreed. "But what's the matter, Madame Zabriska? Youdon't complain that I didn't accept--that I couldn't fall in with mycousin's peculiar ideas?"

"Oh, you can't get out of it like that! You know that isn't the point. "

"What in the world is then?" cried Harry. "There's nothing else thematter, is there?"

Mina could hardly sit still for rage; she was on pins. 

"Nothing else?" She gathered herself together for the attack. "What didyou take her to dinner and to the theatre for? What did you bring herhome for?"

"I wanted to be friendly. I wanted to soften what I had to say. "

"To soften it! Not you! Shall I tell you what you wanted, Mr Tristram?Sometimes men seem to know so little about themselves!"

"If you'll philosophize on the subject of men--about which you know alot, of course--I'll listen with pleasure. "

"It's the horrible selfishness of the thing. Why didn't you send heraway directly? Oh, no, you kept her, you made yourself pleasant, youmade her think you liked her----"

"What?"

"You never thought of anything but yourself all the way through. Youwere lecturing her? Oh, no! You were posing and posturing. Being veryfine and very heroic! And then at the end you turned round and--and asgood as struck her in the face. Oh, I hope she'll never speak to youagain!"

"Did she send you to say this?"

"Of course not. "

"Yes, of course not! You're right there. If it had happened to be in anyway your business----"

"Ah!" cried the Imp triumphantly. "You've no answer, so you turn roundand abuse me! But I don't care. I meant to tell you what I thought ofyou, and I've done it. "

"A post-card would have done it as well, " Harry suggested. 

"But you've gone too far, oh yes, you have. If you ever change yourmind----"

"What about? Oh, don't talk nonsense, Madame Zabriska. "

"It's not nonsense. You behaved even worse than I think if you're not atleast half in love with her. "

Harry threw a quick glance at her. 

"That would be very unlucky for me, " he remarked. 

"Very--now, " said the Imp with every appearance of delight. 

"London will be dull without you, Madame Zabriska. "

"I'm not going to take any more trouble about you, anyhow. "

He rose and walked over to her. 

"In the end, " he said more seriously, "what's your complaint againstme?"

"You've made Cecily terribly unhappy. "

"I couldn't help it. She--she did an impossible thing. "

"After which you made her spend the evening with you! Even a Tristrammust have had a reason for that. "

"I've told you. I felt friendly and I wanted her to be friendly. And Ilike her. The whole thing's a ludicrous trifle. " He paused a moment andadded: "I'm sorry if she's distressed. "

"You've made everything impossible--that's all. "

"I don't understand. It so happens that to-day all sorts of things havebegun to seem possible to me. Perhaps you've seen your uncle?"

"Yes, I have, --and--and it would have been splendid if you hadn'ttreated her as you did. "

"You hint at something I know nothing about. " He was growing angryagain. "I really believe I could manage my own affairs. " He returned tohis pet grievance. 

"You don't understand? Well, you will soon. " She grew cooler as hermischievous pleasure in puzzling him overcame her wrath. "You'll knowwhat you've done soon. "

"Shall I? How shall I find it out?"

"You'll be sorry when--when a certain thing happens. "

He threw himself into a chair with a peevish laugh. 

"I confess your riddles rather bore me. Is there any answer to thisone?"

"Yes, very soon. I've been to see Lady Evenswood. "

"She knows the answer, does she?"

"Perhaps. " Her animation suddenly left her. "But I suppose it's all nouse now, " she said dolefully. 

They sat silent for a minute or two, Harry seeming to fall into a fit ofabstraction. 

"What did you mean by saying I oughtn't to have taken her to dinner andso on?" he asked, as Mina rose to go. 

She shook her head. "I've nothing more to say, " she declared. 

"And you say I'm half in love with her?"

"Yes, I do, " she snapped viciously as she turned toward the door. Butshe looked back at him before she went out. 

"As far as that goes, " he said slowly, "I'm not sure you're wrong, Madame Zabriska. But I could never marry her. "

The Imp launched a prophecy, confidently, triumphantly, maliciously. 

"Before very long she'll be the one to say that, and you've got yourselfto thank for it too! Good-by!"

She was gone. Harry sat down and slowly filled and lit his pipe. It wasprobably all nonsense; but again he recollected Cecily's words: "If everthe time comes, I shall remember!"

Whatever might be the state of his feelings toward her, or of herstoward him, a satisfactory outcome seemed impossible. And somehow thisnotion had the effect of spoiling the success of the day for HarryTristram; so that among the Imp's whirling words there was perhaps agrain or two of wisdom. At least his talk with her did not make Harry'svisions less constant or less intense. 

XXII

AN INSULT TO THE BLOOD

It could not be denied that Blinkhampton was among the things whicharose out of Blent. To acknowledge even so much Harry felt to be a sluron his independence, on the new sense of being able to do things forhimself in which his pride, robbed of its old opportunities, was takingrefuge and finding consolation. It was thanks to himself anyhow that ithad so arisen, for Iver was not the man to mingle business andsentiment. Harry snatched this comfort, and threw his energies into thework, both as a trial of his powers and as a safeguard against histhoughts. He went down to the place and stayed a week. The result of hisvisit was a report which Iver showed to Southend with a very significantnod; even the mistakes in it, themselves inevitable from want ofexperience, were the errors of a large mind. The touch of dogmatism didnot displease a man who valued self-confidence above all otherqualities. 

"The lad will do; he'll make his way, " said Iver. 

Southend smiled. Lads who are equal to making their own way may go veryfar if they are given such a start as he had in contemplation for Harry. But would things go right? Southend had received an incoherent butdecidedly despairing letter from Mina Zabriska. He put it in the fire, saying nothing to Lady Evenswood, and nothing, of course, to Mr Disney. In the end there was perhaps no absolutely necessary connection betweenthe two parts of the scheme--that which concerned the lady, and thatwhich depended on the Minister. Yet the first would make the second somuch more easy!

Mr Disney had given no sign yet. There was a crisis somewhere abroad, and a colleague understood to be self-opinionated; there was a crisis inthe Church, and a bishopric vacant. Lady Evenswood was of opinion thatthe least attempt to hurry Robert would be fatal. There were, after all, limits to the importance of Harry Tristram's case, and Robert waslikely, if worried, to state the fact with his own merciless vigor, andwith that to say good-by to the whole affair. The only person seriouslyangry at the Prime Minister's "dawdling, " was Mina Zabriska; and she hadenjoyed no chance of telling him so. To make such an opportunity for herwas too hazardous an experiment; it might have turned out well--onecould never tell with Robert--but on the whole it was not to be risked. 

What Lady Evenswood would not venture, fortune dared. Mina had beenseeing sights--it was August now, a suitable month for the task--and oneevening, about half-past six, she landed her weary bones on a seat in StJames's Park for a few moments' rest before she faced the Underground. The place was very empty, the few people there lay for the most partasleep--workmen with the day's labor done. Presently she saw two menwalking slowly toward her from the direction of Westminster. One wastall and slight, handsome and distinguished in appearance; in the othershe recognized the rugged awkward man whom she had met at LadyEvenswood's. He was talking hard, hitting his fist into the palm of hisother hand sometimes. The handsome man listened with deference, butfrowned and seemed troubled. Suddenly the pair stopped. 

"I must get back to the House, " she heard the handsome man say. 

"Well, think it over. Try to see it in that light, " said Disney, holdingout his hand. The other took it, and then turned away. The episode wouldhave been worth a good paragraph and a dozen conjectures to a reporter;the handsome man was the self-opinionated colleague, and the words Minahad heard, were they not clear proof of dissensions in the Cabinet?

Disney stood stock-still on the path, not looking after his recalcitrantcolleague, but down on the ground; his thoughts made him unconscious ofthings external. Mina glowed with excitement. He was not an awkward manto her; he was a great and surprising fact, a wonderful institution, themore wonderful because (to look at him) he might have been a superiormechanic who had dropped sixpence and was scanning the ground for it. She was really appalled, but her old instinct and habit of interference, of not letting things go by her without laying at least a finger onthem, worked in her too. How long would he stand there motionless? As ifthe ground could tell him anything! Yet she was not impatient of hisstillness. It was good to sit and watch him. 

An artisan swung by, his tools over his back. Mina saw the suddenlyawakened attention with which his head turned to Disney. He slackenedpace a moment, and then, after an apparent hesitation, lifted his cap. There was no sign that Disney saw him, save that he touched his hat inalmost unconscious acknowledgment. The artisan went by, but stopped, turned to look again, and exchanged an amused smile with Mina. Heglanced round twice again before he was out of sight. Mina sighed inenjoyment. 

With a quick jerk of his head Disney began to walk on slowly. For aninstant Mina did not know what she would do; the fear and the attractionstruggled. Then she jumped up and walked toward him. Her manner triedto assert that she had not noticed him. She was almost by him. She gavea cough. He looked up. Would he know her? Would he remember asking--no, directing--my lord his secretary to write to her, and had he read whatshe wrote? He was looking at her. She dared a hurried little bow. Hecame to a stand-still again. 

"Yes, yes?" he said questioningly. 

"Madame Zabriska, Mr Disney. "

"Oh, yes. " His voice sounded a little disappointed. "I met you at----?"

"At Lady Evenswood's, Mr Disney. " Taking courage she added, "I sent whatyou wanted?"

"What I wanted?"

"Yes. What you wanted me to write, about--about the Tristrams. "

"Yes. " The voice sounded now as if he had placed her. He smiled alittle. "I remember it all now. I read it the other morning. " He noddedat her, as if that finished the matter. But Mina did not move. "I'm busyjust now, " he added, "but--Well, how's your side of the affair going on, Madame Zabriska? I've heard nothing from my cousin about that. "

"It's just wonderful to see you like this!" the Imp blurted out. 

That amused him; she saw the twinkle in his eye. 

"Never mind me. Tell me about the Tristram cousins. "

"Oh, you are thinking of it then?"

"I never tell what I'm thinking about. That's the only reason peoplethink me clever. The cousins?"

"Oh, that's all dreadful. At least I believe they are--they would be--inlove; but--but--Mr Tristram's so difficult, so obstinate, so proud. Idon't suppose you understand----"

"You're the second person who's told me I can't understand, in the lasthalf-hour. " He was smiling now, as he coupled Mina and the handsomerecalcitrant colleague in his protest. "I'm not sure of it. "

"And she's been silly, and he's been horrid, and just now--well, it'sall as bad as can be, Mr Disney. "

"Is it? You must get it better than that, you know, before I can doanything. Good-night. "

"Oh, stop, do stop! Do say what you mean!"

"I shan't do anything of the kind. You may tell Lady Evenswood what I'vesaid and she'll tell you what I mean. "

"Oh, but please----"

"If you stop me any longer, I shall send you to the Tower. Tell LadyEvenswood and Southend. If I didn't do my business better than you doyours----!" He shrugged his shoulders with a good-natured rudeness. "Good-night, " he said again, and this time Mina dared not stop him. Twenty yards further on he halted once more of his own accord and fellinto thought. Mina watched him till he moved on again, slowly making hisway across the Mall and toward St James's Street. A great thing hadhappened to her--she felt that; and she had news too that she was totell to Southend and Lady Evenswood. There was considerable unsettlementin the Imp's mind that night. 

The next day found her at Lady Evenswood's. The old lady and Southend(who had been summoned on Mina's command--certainly Mina was getting upin the world) understood perfectly. They nodded wise heads. 

"I was always inclined to think that Robert would take that view. "

"He fears that the Bearsdale case won't carry him all the way. Dependupon it, that's what he feels. "

"Well, there was the doubt there, you see. "

Mina was rather tired of the doubt in the Bearsdale case. It was alwayscropping up and being mentioned as though it were something exceedinglymeritorious. 

"And in poor Addie's case of course there--well, there wasn't, "proceeded Lady Evenswood with a sigh. "So Robert feels that it might bethought----"

"The people with consciences would be at him, I suppose, " said Southendscornfully. 

"But if the marriage came off----"

"Oh, I see!" cried the Imp. 

"Then he would feel able to act. It would look merely like puttingthings back as they were, you see, Mina. "

"Do you think he means the viscounty?" asked Southend. 

"It would be so much more convenient. And they could have had an earldomonce before if they'd liked. "

"Oh, twice, " corrected Southend confidently. 

"I know it's said, but I don't believe it. You mean in 1816?"

"Yes. Everybody knows that they could have had it from Mr Pitt. "

"Well, George, I don't believe about 1816. At least my father heard LordLiverpool say----"

"Oh, dear me!" murmured the Imp. This historical inquiry was neithercomprehensible nor interesting. But they discussed it eagerly for someminutes before agreeing that, wherever the truth lay, a viscounty couldnot be considered out of the way for the Tristrams--legitimate andproper Tristrams, be it understood. 

"And that's where the match would be of decisive value, " Lady Evenswoodconcluded. 

"Disney said as much evidently. So you understood, Madame Zabriska?"

"I suppose so. I've told you what he said. "

"He could take Blentmouth, you know. It's all very simple. "

"Well, I'm not sure that our friend Iver isn't keeping that forhimself, " smiled Southend. 

"Oh, he can be Lord Bricks and Putty, " she suggested, laughing. Butthere seemed in her words a deplorable hint of scorn for that process bywhich the vitality (not to say the solvency) of the British aristocracyis notoriously maintained. "Blentmouth would do very well for HarryTristram. "

"Well then, what's to be done?" asked Southend. 

"We must give him a hint, George. "

"Have we enough to go upon? Suppose Disney turned round and----"

"Robert won't do that. Besides, we needn't pledge anything. We can justput the case. " She smiled thoughtfully. "I'm still not quite sure how MrTristram will take it, you know. "

"How he'll take it? He'll jump at it, of course. "

"The girl or the title, George?"

"Well, both together. Won't he, Madame Zabriska?"

Mina thought great things of the girl, and even greater, if vaguer, ofthe title. 

"I should just think so, " she replied complacently. There was a limit tothe perversity even of the Tristrams. 

"We mustn't put it too baldly, " observed Southend, dangling hiseyeglass. 

"Oh, he'll think more of the thing itself than of how we put it, " LadyEvenswood declared. 

From her knowledge of Harry, the Imp was exactly of that opinion. ButSouthend was for diplomacy; indeed what pleasure is there in manœuvringschemes if they are not to be conducted with delicacy? A policy that canbe defined on a postage stamp has no attraction for ingenious minds, although it is usually the most effective with a nation. 

Harry Tristram returned from Blinkhampton in a state of intellectualsatisfaction marred by a sense of emotional emptiness. He had been veryactive, very energetic, very successful. He had new and cogent evidenceof his power, not merely to start but to go ahead on his own account. This was the good side. But he discovered and tried to rebuke in himselfa feeling that he had so far wasted the time in that he had seen nobodyand nothing beautiful. Men of affairs had no concern with a feeling likethat. Would Iver have it, or would Mr Disney? Surely not! It would be apositive inconvenience to them, or at best a worthless asset. He tracedit back to Blent, to that influence which he had almost brought himselfto call malign because it seemed in some subtle way enervating, a thingthat sought to clog his steps and hung about those feet which had needto be so alert and nimble. Yet the old life at Blent would not haveserved by itself now. Was he to turn out so exacting that he must haveboth lives before he, or what was in him, could cry "Content"? A manwill sometimes be alarmed when he realizes what he wants--a woman often. 

So he came, in obedience to Lady Evenswood's summons, very confident butrather sombre. When he arrived, a woman was there whom he did not know. She exhaled fashion and the air of being exactly the right thing. Shewas young--several years short of forty--and very handsome. Her mannerwas quiet and well-dowered with repressed humor. He was introduced toLady Flora Disney, and found himself regarded with unmistakable interestand lurking amusement. It was no effort to remember that Mr Disney hadmarried a daughter of Lord Bewdley's. That was enough; just as he knewall about her, she would know all about him; they were both of the palein a sense that their hostess was, but Lord Southend--well, hardlywas--and (absurdly enough) Mr Disney himself not at all. This again wasin patent incongruity with Blinkhampton and smelt wofully strong ofBlent. Lady Evenswood encouraged Harry to converse with the visitor. 

"We're a little quieter, " she was saying. "The crisis is dormant, andthe bishop's made, and Lord Hove has gone to consult the Duke ofDexminster--which means a fortnight's delay anyhow, and probably beingtold to do nothing in the end. So I sometimes see Robert at dinner. "

"And he tells you things, and you're indiscreet about them!" said LadyEvenswood rebukingly. 

"I believe Robert considers me a sort of ante-room to publicity. Andit's so much easier to disown a wife than a journalist, isn't it, MrTristram?"

"Naturally. The Press have to pretend to believe one another, " he said, smiling. 

"That's the corner-stone, " Southend agreed. 

"Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" pursued Lady Flora. "But Diana wasnever a wife, if I remember. "

"Though how they do it, my dear, " marvelled Lady Evenswood, "is what Idon't understand. "

"I know nothing about them, " Lady Flora declared. "And they know nothingabout me. They stop at my gowns, you know, and even then they alwaysconfuse me with Gertrude Melrose. "

"I hope that stops at the gown too?" observed Southend. 

"The hair does it, I think. She buys hers at the same shop as I--Nowwhat do I do, Mr Tristram?"

"You, Lady Flora? You know the shop. Is that enough?"

"Yes, or--well, no. I supplement there. I declare I won't wait anylonger for Robert. "

"He won't come now, " said Lady Evenswood. "Is the bishop nice, my dear?"

"Oh, yes, quite plump and gaitery! Good-by, dear Cousin Sylvia. I wishyou'd come and see me, Mr Tristram. "

Harry, making his little bow, declared that he would be delighted. 

"I like to see young men sometimes, " observed the lady, retreating. 

"The new style, " Lady Evenswood summed up, as the door closed. "And--well, I suppose Robert likes it. "

"_Dissimilia dissimilibus_, " shrugged Southend, fixing his glasses. 

"It's the only concession to appearances he ever made, " sighed LadyEvenswood. 

"She's a lady, though. "

"Oh, yes. That's what makes it so funny. If she weren't----"

"Yes, it would all be natural enough. "

"But we've been wasting your time, Mr Tristram. "

"Never less wasted since I was born, " protested Harry, who had bothenjoyed and learnt. 

"No, really I think not, " she agreed, smiling. "Flora has her power. "

The remark grated on him; he wanted nothing of Flora and her power; itwas indeed rather an unfortunate introduction to the business of theafternoon; it pointed Harry's quills a little. Lady Evenswood, with aquick perception, tried to retrieve the observation. 

"But she likes people who are independent best, " she went on. "So doesRobert, if it comes to that. Indeed he never does a job for anyone. "

"Carries that too far in my opinion, " commented Southend. The moment fordiplomacy approached. 

But when it came to the point, Lady Evenswood suavely took the task outof his hands. Her instinct told her that she could do it best; he sooncame to agree. She had that delicacy which he desired but lacked; shecould claim silence when he must have suffered interruption; she couldexcuse her interference on the ground of old friendship; she could pleadan interest which might seem impertinent in him. Above all, she could beelusively lucid and make herself understood without any bluntness ofstatement. 

"If it could be so managed that the whole miserable accident should beblotted out and forgotten!" she exclaimed, as though she implored apersonal favor. 

"How can that be?" asked Harry. "I was in, and I am out, LadyEvenswood. "

"You're out, and your cousin's in, yes. " Harry's eyes noted the wordsand dwelt on her face. "She can't be happy in that state of affairseither. "

"Perhaps not, " he admitted. "Facts are facts, though. "

"There are ways--ways of preventing that, " Southend interposed, murmuring vaguely. 

"I don't know how you'll feel about it, but we all think you ought toconsider other things besides your personal preferences. Might I tell MrDisney--no, one moment, please! Our idea, I mean, was that there mightbe a family arrangement. A moment, please, Mr Tristram! I don't mean, bywhich she would lose what she has----"

"But that I should get it?"

"Well, yes. Oh, I know your feelings. But they would cease to exist ifyou came to her on an equality, with what is really and truly yourproper position recognized and--and----"

"Regularized, " Southend supplied with a sharp glance at Harry. 

"I don't understand, " Harry declared. "You must tell me what you mean. Is it something that concerns Cecily as well as me?"

"Oh, about that we haven't the right even to ask your feelings. Thatwould be simply for you to consider. But if anything were to happen----"

"Nothing could. " Harry restrained himself no longer. "There can be noquestion of it. "

"I knew you'd feel like that. Just because you feel like that, I want tomake the other suggestion to you. I'm not speaking idly. I have mywarrant, Mr Tristram. If----" She was at a loss for a moment. "If youever went back to Blent, " she continued, not satisfied, but driven tosome form of words, "it isn't inevitable that you should go as MrTristram. There are means of righting such injustices as yours. Wait, please! It would be felt--and felt in a quarter you can guess--that themaster of Blent, which you'd be in fact anyhow, should have thatposition recognized. Perhaps there would not be the same feeling unlessyou were still associated with Blent. "

"I don't understand at all. "

She exchanged a despairing glance with Southend; she could not tellwhether or not he was sincere in saying that he did not understand. Southend grew weary of the diplomacy which he had advocated; after allit had turned out to be Lady Evenswood's, not his, which may have hadsomething to do with his change of mood toward it. He took up the taskwith a brisk directness. 

"It's like this, Harry. You remember that the unsuccessful claimant inthe Bearsdale case got a barony? That's our precedent. But it's felt notto go quite all the way--because there was a doubt there. (Luckily forMina she was not by to hear. ) But it is felt that in the event of thetwo branches of your family being united it would be proper to--toobliterate past--er--incidents. And that could be done by raising you tothe peerage, under a new and, as we hope, a superior title. We believeMr Disney would, under the circumstances I have suggested, be preparedto recommend a viscounty, and that there would prove to be nodifficulties in the way. " The last words had, presumably, reference tothe same quarter that Lady Evenswood had once described by the words, "Somebody Else. "

They watched him as he digested the proposal, at last made to him in atolerably plain form. "You must give me a moment to follow that out, " hesaid, with a smile. But he had it all clear enough before he would allowthem to perceive that he understood. For although his brain made easywork of it, his feelings demanded a pause. He was greatly surprised. Hehad thought of no such a thing. What differences would it make?

Southend was well satisfied with the way in which his overture wasreceived. Lady Evenswood was watching intently. 

"The idea is----" said Harry slowly--"I mean--I don't quite gather whatit is. You talk of my cousin, and then of a viscounty. The two gotogether, do they?"

It was rather an awkward question put as bluntly as that. 

"Well, that did seem to be Mr Disney's view, " said Southend. 

"He was thinking of the family--of the family as a whole. I'm sure youthink of that too, " urged Lady Evenswood. There would never be aTristram who did not, she was thinking. Well, except Addie perhaps, whoreally thought of nothing. "Of course as a thing purely personal to youit might be just a little difficult. " She meant, and intended Harry tounderstand, that without the marriage the thing could not be done atall. Mina had reported Mr Disney faithfully, and Lady Evenswood'sknowledge of her cousin Robert was not at fault. "Apart from anythingelse, there would be the sordid question, " she ended, with a smile thatbecame propitiatory against her will; she had meant it to be merelyconfidential. 

There was ground for hope; Harry hesitated--truth will out, even whereit impairs the grandeur of men. The suggestion had its attractions; ittouched the spring of the picturesque in him which Blinkhampton had leftrusting in idleness. It suggested something in regard to Cecilytoo--what it was, he did not reason out very clearly at the moment. Anyhow what was proposed would create a new situation and put him in adifferent position toward her. In brief, he would have something more onhis side. 

"Once he was sure the proposal was agreeable to you----" murmured LadyEvenswood gently. She was still very tentative about the matter, andstill watchful of Harry. 

But Southend was not cautious or did not read his man so well. To himthe battle seemed to be won. He was assured in his manner and decidedlytriumphant as he said:

"It's a great thing to have screwed Disney up to the viscounty. It doesaway with all difficulty about the name, you see. "

Harry looked up sharply. Had Mr Disney been "screwed up?" Who hadscrewed him up?--by what warrant?--on whose commission? That was enoughto make him glower and to bring back something of the old-time look ofsuspicion to his face. But the greater part of his attention wasengrossed by the second half of Southend's ill-advised bit ofjubilation. 

"The name? The difficulty about the name?" he asked. 

"If it had been a barony--well, hers would take precedence, of course. With the higher degree yours will come first, and her barony bemerged--Viscount Blentmouth, eh, Harry?" He chuckled with glee. 

"Viscount Blentmouth be hanged!" cried Harry. He mastered himself withan effort. "I beg your pardon, Lady Evenswood; and I'm much obliged toyou, and to you too, Lord Southend, for--for screwing Mr Disney up. It'snot a thing I could or should have done or tried to do for myself. " Inspite of his attempted calmness his voice grew a little louder. "I wantnothing but what's my own. If nothing's my own, well and good--I canwait till I make it something. "

"But, my dear Harry----!" began the discomfited Southend. Harry cut himshort, breaking again into impetuous speech. 

"There's nothing between my cousin and me. There's no question ofmarriage and never can be. And if there were----" He seemed to gatherhimself up for a flight of scorn--"If there were, do you think I'm goingto save my own pride by saddling the family with a beastly newviscounty?"

His tones rose in indignation on the last sentence, as he looked fromone to the other. "Viscount Blentmouth indeed!" he growled. 

Southend's hands were out before him in signal of bewildered distress. Lady Evenswood looked at Harry, then, with a quick forward inclinationof her body, past him; and she began to laugh. 

"Thank you very much, but I've been Tristram of Blent, " ended Harry, now in a very fine fume, and feeling he had been much insulted. 

Still looking past him, Lady Evenswood sat laughing quietly. Even onSouthend's face came an uneasy smile, as he too looked toward the door. After a moment's furious staring at the two Harry faced round. The doorhad been softly and noiselessly opened to the extent of a couple offeet. A man stood in the doorway, tugging at a ragged beard and witheyes twinkling under rugged brows. Who was he, and how did he comethere? Harry heard Lady Evenswood's laughter; he heard her murmur toherself with an accent of pleasure, "A beastly new viscounty!" Then theman in the doorway came a little farther in, saying:

"That's exactly what I think about it, Mr Tristram. I've heard what yousaid and I agree with you. There's an end, then, of the beastly newviscounty!" He looked mockingly at Southend. "I've been screwed up allfor nothing, it seems, " said he. 

"Why, you're----?"

"Let me introduce myself, Mr Tristram. I came to look for my wife, andmy name is Disney. I intend to keep mine, and I know better than to tryto alter yours. "

"I thought it would end like this!" cried Lady Evenswood. 

"Shan't we say that it begins like this?" asked Mr Disney. His look atHarry was a compliment. 

XXIII

A DECREE OF BANISHMENT

The Imp cried--absolutely cried for vexation--when a curt and sour notefrom Southend told her the issue. The blow struck down her excitementand her exultation. Away went all joy in her encounter with Mr Disney, all pride in the skill with which she had negotiated with the PrimeMinister. The ending was pitiful--disgusting and pitiful. She poured outher heart's bitterness to Major Duplay, who had come to visit her. 

"I'm tired of the whole thing, and I hate the Tristrams!" she declared. 

"It always comes to that in time, Mina, when you mix yourself up inpeople's affairs. "

"Wasn't it through you that I began to do it?"

The Major declined to argue the question--one of some complexityperhaps. 

"Well, I've got plenty to do in London. Let's give up Merrion and takerooms here. "

"Give up Merrion!" She was startled. But the reasons she assigned wereprudential. "I've taken it till October, and I can't afford to. Besides, what's the use of being here in August?"

"You won't drop it yet, you see. " The reasons did not deceive Duplay. 

"I don't think I ought to desert Cecily. I suppose she'll go back toBlent. Oh, what an exasperating man he is!"

"Doesn't look as if the match would come off now, does it?"

"It's just desperate. The last chance is gone. I don't know what to do. "

"Marry him yourself, " advised the Major. Though it was an old idea ofhis, he was not very serious. 

"I'd sooner poison him, " said Mina decisively. "What must Mr Disneythink of me?"

"I shouldn't trouble about that. Do you suppose he thinks much at all, Mina?" (That is the sort of remark which relatives sometimes regard asconsolatory. ) "I think Harry Tristram as much of a fool as you do, "Duplay added. "If he'd taken it, he could have made a good match anyhow, even if he didn't get Lady Tristram. "

"Cecily's just as bad. She's retired into her shell. You don't know thatway of hers--of theirs, I suppose it is, bother them! She's treatingeverybody and everything as if they didn't exist. "

"She'll go back to Blent, I suppose?"

"Well, she must. Somebody must have it. "

"If it's going begging, call on me, " said the Major equably. He was in abetter humor with the world than he had been for a long while; hisconnection with Iver promised well. But Mina sniffed scornfully; she wasin no mood for idle jests. 

Cecily had been told about the scheme and its lamentable end. Herattitude was one of entire unconcern. What was it to her if Harry weremade a viscount, a duke, or the Pope? What was anything to her? She wasgoing back to her father at Blent. The only animation she displayed wasin resenting the reminder, and indeed denying the fact, that she hadever been other than absolutely happy and contented at Blent. Minapressed the point, and Cecily then declared that now at any rate herconscience was at rest. She had tried to do what was right--at whatsacrifice Mina knew; the reception of her offer Mina knew. Now perhapsMina could sympathize with her, and could understand the sort of way inwhich Cousin Harry received attempts to help him. On this point theydrew together again. 

"You must come back to Merrion, dear, " urged Cecily. 

Mina, who never meant to do anything else, embraced her friend andaffectionately consented. It is always pleasant to do on entreaty whatwe might be driven to do unasked. 

Good-by had to be said to Lady Evenswood. That lady was very cheerfulabout Harry; she was, hardly with any disguise, an admirer of hisconduct, and said that undoubtedly he had made a very favorableimpression on Robert. She seemed to make little of the desperatecondition of affairs as regarded Cecily. She was thinking of Harry'scareer, and that seemed to her very promising. "Whatever he tries Ithink he'll succeed in, " she said. That was not enough for Mina; he musttry Mina's things--those she had set her heart on--before she could becontent. "But you never brought Cecily to see me, " Lady Evenswoodcomplained. "And I'm just going away now. "

That was it, Mina decided. Lady Evenswood had not seen Cecily. She hadapproached the Tristram puzzle from one side only, and had perceived butone aspect of it. She did not understand that it was complex anddouble-headed; it was neither Harry nor Cecily, but Harry and Cecily. Mina had been in that state of mind before Cecily came on the scene; itwas natural now in Lady Evenswood. But it rendered her really useless. It was a shock to find that, all along, in Lady Evenswood's mind Cecilyhad been a step toward the peerage rather than the peerage the firststep toward Cecily. Mina wondered loftily (but silently) how woman couldtake so slighting a view of woman. 

"And Flora Disney has quite taken him up, " Lady Evenswood pursued. "George tells me he's been to lunch there twice. George is a terriblegossip. "

"What does Lady Flora Disney want with him?"

"Well, my dear, are you going to turn round and say you don't understandwhy he interests women?"

"I don't see why he should interest Lady Flora. " Mina had already madeup her mind that she hated that sort of woman. It was bad enough to havecaptured Mr Disney; must the insatiate creature draw into her net HarryTristram also?

"And of course he's flattered. Any young man would be. "

"I don't think he's improved since he left Blent. "

"Country folks always say that about their young men when they come totown, " smiled Lady Evenswood. "He's learning his world, my dear. And heseems very sensible. He hasn't inherited poor Addie's wildness. "

"Yes, he has. But it only comes out now and then. When it does----"

"It won't come out with Flora, " Lady Evenswood interrupted reassuringly. "And at any rate, as you may suppose, I'm going to leave him to his owndevices. Oh, I think he's quite right, but I don't want to be wrongmyself again, that's all. "

But another thing was to happen before Mina went back to the valley ofthe Blent; a fearful, delightful thing. An astonishing missive came--acard inviting her to dine with Mr and Lady Flora Disney. She gasped asshe read it. Had Lady Flora ever indulged in the same expression offeeling, it would have been when she was asked to send it. Gaspingstill, Mina telegraphed for her best frock and all the jewelled tokensof affection which survived to testify to Adolf Zabriska's love. It wasin itself an infinitely great occasion, destined always to loom largein memory; but it proved to have a bearing on the Tristram problem too. 

For Harry was there. He sat on the hostess's left; on her other side washandsome Lord Hove, very resplendent in full dress, starred andribanded. Several of the men were like that; there was some functionlater on, Mina learnt from an easy-mannered youth who sat by her andseemed bored with the party. Disney came in late, in his usualindifferently fitting morning clothes, snatching an hour from the House, in the strongest contrast to the fair sumptuousness of his wife. He tooka vacant chair two places from Mina and nodded at her in a friendly way. They were at a round table, and there were only a dozen there. Theeasy-mannered youth told her all about them, including several thingswhich it is to be hoped were not true; he seemed to view them from analtitude of good-humored contempt. Mina discovered afterward that he wasa cousin of Lady Flora's, and occupied a position in Messrs Coutts'sBank. He chuckled once, remarking:

"Flora's talkin' to Tristram all the time, instead of bein' pleasant toTommy Hove. Fact is, she hates Tommy, and she'd be glad if the Chiefwould give him the boot. But the Chief doesn't want to, because Tommy'swell in at Court and the Chief isn't. "

"Why does Lady Flora hate Lord Hove? He's very handsome. "

"Think so? Well, I see so many fellows like that, that I'm beginnin' tohate 'em. Like the 'sweet girl, ' don't you know? I hear the Chief thinksTristram'll train on. "

"Do what?" asked Mina absently, looking across at Harry. Harry was quitelively, and deep in conversation with his hostess. 

"Well, they might put him in the House, and so on, you know. See thatwoman next but three? That's Gertrude Melrose; spends more on clothesthan any woman in London, and she's only got nine hundred a year. Queer?" He smiled as he consumed an almond. 

"She must get into debt, " said Mina, gazing at the clothes ofinexplicable origin. 

"Gettin' in isn't the mystery, " remarked the youth. "It's the gettin'out, Madame--er--Zabriska. " He had taken a swift glance at Mina's card. 

Mina looked round. "Is it in this room they have the Councils?" sheasked. 

"Cabinets? Don't know. Downstairs somewhere, I believe, anyhow. " Hesmothered a yawn. "Queer thing, that about Tristram, you know. Ifeverything was known, you know, I shouldn't wonder if a lot of otherfellows found themselves----"

He was interrupted, fortunately perhaps, in these speculations by aquestion from his other neighbor. Mina was left alone for some minutes, and set to work to observe the scene. She was tolerably at ease now; aman was on each side of her, and in the end it was the women of whom shewas afraid. There would be a terrible time in the drawing-room, but shedetermined not to think of that. Harry saw her sitting silent and smiledacross at her while he listened to Lady Flora. The smile seemed to comefrom a great way off. The longer she sat there the more that impressiongrew; he seemed so much and so naturally a part of the scene and one ofthe company. She was so emphatically not one of them, save by the merestaccident and for an evening's span. The sense of difference and distancetroubled her. She thought of Cecily alone at home, and grew moretroubled still. She felt absurd too, because she had been trying to helpHarry. If that had to be done, she supposed Lady Flora would do it now. The idea was bitter. Where difference of class comes in, women seem morehostile to one another than men are to men; perhaps this should beconsidered in relation to the franchise question. 

Through the talk of the rest she listened to Harry and Lady Flora. ThatHarry should hold his own did not surprise her; it was rather unexpectedthat he should do it so lightly and so urbanely. Lord Hove tried tointervene once or twice, with no success; capricious waves of sympathyundulated across to him from Mina. She turned her head by chance, andfound Mr Disney silent too, and looking at her. The next moment he spoketo the easy-mannered youth. 

"Well, Theo, what's the world saying and doing?"

"Same as last year, Cousin Robert, " answered Theo cheerfully. "Government's a year older, of course. "

In an instant Mina was pleased; she detected an unexpected but pleasantfriendship between Mr Disney and the youth. She credited Disney withmore humanity--the humor necessary she knew he had--and liked him evenbetter. 

"The drawing-rooms have kicked us out already, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes, rather. But the Bank's not sure. "

"Good! That's something. Banks against drawing-rooms for me, MadameZabriska. " He brought her into the conversation almost with tact; hemust have had a strong wish to make her comfortable. 

"That's right, " announced Theo. "I should say you're all right in thecountry too. Crops pretty good, you know, and the rain's comin' downjust nicely. "

"Well, I ordered it, " said Mr Disney. 

"Takin' all the credit you can get, " observed Theo. "Like the man whocarved his name on the knife before he stabbed his mother-in-law. "

"What did he do that for?" cried Mina. A guffaw from Disney quite amazedher. 

Harry looked across with a surprised air; he seemed to wonder that sheshould be enjoying herself. Mina was annoyed, and set herself to bemerry; a glance from Lady Flora converted vexation into rage. She turnedback to Theo; somehow Mr Disney had taught her how to like him--often avaluable lesson, if people would keep their eyes open for it. 

"Everybody else I've met has been horribly afraid of Mr Disney, " shesaid in a half-whisper. 

"Oh, you aren't in a funk of a man who's smacked your head!"

That seemed a better paradox than most. Mina nodded approvingly. 

"What does the Bank say about Barililand, Theo?" called Disney. LordHove paused in the act of drinking a glass of wine. 

"Well, they're just wonderin' who's goin' to do the kickin', " said Theo. 

"And who's going to take it?" Disney seemed much amused. Lord Hove hadturned a little pink. Mina had a vague sense that serious things werebeing joked about. Harry had turned from his hostess and was listening. 

"That's what it comes to, " concluded Theo. 

Disney glanced round, smiling grimly. Everybody had become silent. Barililand had produced the question on which Lord Hove was supposed tobe restive. Disney laughed and looked at his wife. She rose from thetable. Mr Disney had either learnt what he wanted or had finishedamusing himself. Mina did not know which; no more, oddly enough, didLord Hove. 

Mr Disney was by the door, saying good-by to the ladies; he would not becoming to the drawing-room. He stopped Mina, who went out last, justbefore his wife. 

"We've done all we could, Madame Zabriska, " he said. "We must leave himalone, eh?"

"I'm afraid so. You've been very kind, Mr Disney. "

"Better as it is, I fancy. Now then, Flora!" At this peremptory summonsLady Flora left Theo, by whom she had halted, and followed Mina throughthe door. 

The dreadful moment had come. It justified Mina's fears, but not in theway she had expected. Two of the women left directly; the other two wentoff into a corner; her hostess sat down and talked to her. Lady Florawas not distant and did not make Mina feel an outsider. The fault wasthe other way; she was confidential--and about Harry. She assumed anintimacy with him equal or more than equal to Mina's own; she even toldMina things about him; she said "we" thought him an enormousacquisition, and hoped to see a great deal of him. It was all very kind, and Mina, as a true friend, should have been delighted. As it was, dolorgrew upon her. 

"And I suppose the cousin is quite----?" A gentle motion of Lady Flora'sfan was left to define Cecily more exactly, and proved fully up to thetask. 

"She's the most fascinating creature I ever saw, " cried Mina. 

"Rescued out of Chelsea, wasn't she?" smiled Lady Flora. "Poor thing!One's sorry for her. When her mourning's over we must get her out. I dohope she's something like Mr Tristram?"

"I think she's ever so much nicer than Mr Tristram. " Mina would haveshrunk from stating this upon oath. 

"He interests me enormously, and it's so seldom I like Robert's youngmen. "

So he was to be Robert's young man too! The thing grew worse and worse. Almost she hated her idol Mr Disney. Personal jealousy, and jealousy forCecily, blinded her to his merits, much more to the gracious cordialitywhich his wife was now showing. 

"Yes, I'm sure we shall make something of Harry Tristram. "

"He doesn't like things done for him, " Mina declared. She meant to showhow very well she knew him, and spoke with an air of authority. 

"Oh, of course it won't look like that, Madame Zabriska. "

Now the Imp's efforts had looked like that--just like it. She chafedunder conscious inferiority; Lady Flora had smiled at being thought toneed such a reminder. 

"Men never see it unless it's absolutely crammed down their throats, "Lady Flora pursued. "They always think it's all themselves, you know. Itwould be very clumsy to be found out. "

In perfect innocence she sprinkled pepper on Mina's wound. Able toendure no more, the Imp declared that she must go back to Cecily. 

"Oh, poor girl, I quite forgot her! You're going back to Blent with her, I suppose? Do come and see us when you're in town again. " Was there orwas there not the slightest sigh as she turned away, a sigh that spokeof duty nobly done? Even toward Robert's caprices, even to the oddestpeople, Lady Flora prided herself on a becoming bearing. And in the endthis little Madame Zabriska had rather amused her; she was funny withher airs of ownership about Harry Tristram. 

Well poor Mina understood! All that the enemy thought was legible toher; all the misery that keen perceptions can sometimes bring was sureto be hers. She had spent the most notable evening of her life, and shegot into her cab a miserable woman. 

Theo was on the doorstep. "Escapin', " he confided to her while he handedher in. "Worst of these parties generally is that there's nobodyamusin', " he observed as he did her this service. "Aren't you ratherglad you haven't got to take on Flora's job, Madame Zabriska?"

No, at the moment at least Mina did not rejoice on that account. 

When she reached home, there was nothing to change her mood. She foundCecily in a melancholy so sympathetic as to invite an immediateoutpouring of the heart. Cecily was beautiful that evening, in her blackfrock, with her fair hair, her pale face, and her eyes full of tragedy. She had been writing, it appeared; ink and paper were on the table. Shewas very quiet, but, Mina thought, with the stillness that follows astorm. Unasked, the Imp sketched the dinner party, especially Harry'sshare in it. Her despair was laced with vitriol and she avoided a kindword about anybody. This was blank ingratitude to Mr Disney, and to Theotoo; but our friends can seldom escape from paying for our misfortunes. 

"Those people have got hold of him. We've lost him. That's the end ofit, " she cried. 

Cecily had nothing to say; she leant back in a limp forlornness whileMina expatiated on this doleful text. There came a luxury into the Imp'swoe as she realized for herself and her auditor the extreme sorrows ofthe situation; she forgot entirely that there was not and never had beenany reason why Harry should be anything in particular to her at least. She observed that of course she was glad for his sake; this time-honoredunselfishness won no assent from Cecily. Lacking the reinforcement ofdiscussion, the stream of Mina's lamentation began to run dry. 

"Oh, it's no use talking, " she ended. "There it is!"

"I'm going back to Blent to-morrow, " said Cecily suddenly. 

It was no more than Mina had expected. "Yes, we may as well, " sheassented dismally. 

Cecily rose and began to walk about. Her air caught Mina's attentionagain; on this, the evening before she returned to Blent, it hadsomething of that suppressed passion which had marked her manner on thenight when she determined to leave it. She came to a stand oppositeMina. 

"I've made up my mind. From this moment, Mina, Blent is mine. Up to nowI've held it for Harry. Now it's mine. I shall go back and begineverything there to-morrow. "

Mina felt the tragedy; the inevitable was being accepted. 

"You see I've been writing?"

"Yes, Cecily. " After all it looked as though the Imp were not to becheated of her sensation. 

"I've written to Cousin Harry. I've told him what I mean to do. He mustthink it right; it's the only thing he's left me to do. But I've toldhim I can do it only on one condition. He'll have my letter to-morrow. "

"On one condition? What?"

"I said to him that he gave me Blent because I was there, because he sawme there in the middle of it all. That's true. If I'd stayed here, wouldhe ever have told his secret? Never! He wouldn't so much as have come tosee me; he'd never have thought of me, he'd have forgotten all about me. It was seeing me there. "

"Well, seeing you, anyhow. "

"Seeing me there--there at Blent, " she insisted, now almost angrily. "Sohe'll understand what I mean by the thing I've asked of him. And he mustobey. " Her voice became imperious. "I've told him that I'm going back, going to stay there, and live there, but that he must never, never comethere. "

Mina started, her eyes wide-open in surprise at this heroic measure. 

"I must never see him--if I can help it. Anyhow I must never see him atBlent. That's the only way I can endure it. "

"Never see him! Never have him at Blent!" Mina was trying to sort outthe state of things which would result. It was pretty plain what hadhappened; Cecily had felt the need of doing something; here it was. Mina's sympathies, quick to move, darted out to Harry. "Think what it'llmean to him never to see Blent!" she cried. 

"To him? Nothing, nothing! Why, you yourself came home just now sayingthat we were nothing to him! Blent's nothing to him now. It's for my ownsake that I've said he mustn't come. "

"You've begged him not to come?"

"I've told him not to come, " said Cecily haughtily. "If it's his, lethim take it. If it's mine, I can choose who shall come there. Don't yousee, don't you see? How can I ever cheat myself into thinking it's mineby right, if I see Harry there?" She paused a moment. "And if you'dthrown yourself at a man's head, and he'd refused you, would you want tohave him about?"

"N--no, " said Mina, but rather hesitatingly; uncomfortable situationsare to some natures better than no situations at all. "No, of coursenot, " she added more confidently, after she had spent a moment inbracing up her sense of what was seemly. 

"So I've ended it, I've ended everything. I posted my letter just beforeyou came in, and he'll get it to-morrow. And now, Mina, I'm going backto Blent. " She threw herself into an arm-chair, leaning back in asudden weariness after the excited emotion with which she had declaredher resolve. Mina sat on the other side of the table looking at her, andafter a moment's looking suddenly began to sob. 

"It's too miserable, " she declared in wrathful woe. "Why couldn't hehave said nothing about it and just married you? Oh, I hate it all, because I love you both. I know people think I'm in love with him, butI'm not. It's both of you, it's the whole thing; and now it never, nevercan go straight. If he got Blent back now by a miracle, it would be justas bad. "

"Worse, " said Cecily, "if you mean that then he might----"

"Yes, worse, " moaned Mina. "It's hopeless every way. And I believe he'sfond of you. "

A scornful smile was Cecily's only but sufficient answer. 

"And you love him!" Mina's sorrow made her forget all fear. She said inthis moment what she had never before dared to say. "Oh, of course youdo, or you'd never have told him he mustn't come to Blent. But he won'tunderstand that--and it would make no difference if he did, I suppose!Oh, you Tristrams!" Again her old despairing cry of revolt andbewilderment was wrung from her by the ways of the family with whosefate she had become so concerned. Southend had felt much the same thingover the matter of Harry and the viscounty. "So it all ends, it allends--and we've got to go back to Blent!"

"Yes, I love him, " said Cecily. "That evening in the Long Gallery--theevening when he gave me Blent--do you know what I thought?" She spokelow and quickly, lying back quite still in the attitude that AddieTristram had once made her own. "I watched him, and I saw that he hadsomething to say, and yet wouldn't say it. I saw he was struggling. AndI watched, how I watched! He was engaged to Janie Iver--he had told methat. But he didn't love her--yes, he told me that too. But there wassomething else. I saw it. I had come to love him then already--oh, Ithink as soon as I saw him at Blent. And I waited for it. Did you everdo that, Mina--do you remember?"

Mina was silent; her memories gave her no such thing as that. Her sobshad ceased; she sat listening in tense excitement to the history of thescene that she had descried, dim and far off, from the terrace ofMerrion on the hill. 

"I waited, waited. I couldn't believe--Ah, yes, but I did believe. Ithought he felt bound in honor and I hoped--yes, I hoped--he would breakhis word and throw away his honor. I saw it coming, and my heart seemedto burst as I waited for it. You'd know, if it had ever happened to youlike that. And at last I saw he would speak--I saw he must speak. Hecame and stood by me. Suddenly he cried, 'I can't do it. ' Then my heartleapt, because I thought he meant he couldn't marry Janie Iver. I lookedup at him and I suppose I said something. He caught me by the arm. Ithought he was going to kiss me, Mina. And then--then he told me thatBlent was mine--not himself but Blent--that I was Lady Tristram, andhe--Harry Nothing--he said, Harry Nothing-at-all. "

"Oh, if you'd tell him that!" cried Mina. 

"Tell him!" She smiled in superb scorn. "I'd die before I'd tell him. Icould go and offer myself to him just because he didn't know. And he'llnever know now. Only now you can understand that Blent is--Ah, that it'sall bitterness to me! And you know now why he must never come. Yes, asyou say, it all ends now. "

Mina came and knelt down by her, caressing her hand. Cecily shivered alittle and moved with a vague air of discomfort. 

"But I believe he cares for you, " Mina whispered. 

"He might have cared for me perhaps. But Blent's between. "

Blent was between. The difficulty seemed insuperable--at least where youwere dealing with Tristrams. Mina could not but acknowledge that. ForHarry, having nothing to give, would take nothing. And Cecily, havingmuch, was thereby debarred from giving anything. And if that miracle ofwhich Mina had spoken came about, the parts would be exchanged but theposition would be no more hopeful. The Tristrams not only brought aboutdifficult situations--as Addie had done here--but by being what theywere they insured that the difficulties should not be overcome. Yet atthis moment Mina could not cry, "Oh, you Tristrams!" any more. Hersorrow was too great and Cecily too beautiful. She seemed again to seeAddie, and neither she nor anybody else could have been hard to Addie. She covered Cecily's hands with kisses as she knelt by her side. 

"Yes, this is the end, " said Cecily. "Now, Mina, for Blent and herladyship!" She gave a bitter little laugh. "And good-by to CousinHarry!"

"Oh, Cecily----!"

"No, he shall never come to Blent. "

How would Harry take this decree of banishment? Mina looked up into herfriend's eyes, wondering. But did not the dinner-party at Mr Disney'sanswer that?

XXIV

AFTER THE END OF ALL

"MY DEAR COUSIN--I shall faithfully obey your commands--Yours verytruly, H. A. F. TRISTRAM. " And below--very formally--"THE LADY TRISTRAMOF BLENT. "

To write it took him no more than a moment--even though he wrote first, "The commands of the Head of the House, " and destroyed that, ashamed ofthe sting of malice in it. To send it to the post was the work ofanother moment. The third found him back at his Blinkhampton plans andelevations, Cecily's letter lying neglected on the table by him. Afterhalf an hour's work he stopped suddenly, reached for the letter, tore itinto small fragments, and flung the scraps into his waste-paper basket. Just about the same time Cecily and Mina were getting into the train toreturn to Blent. 

This returning to Blent was epidemic--not so strange perhaps, sincemid-August was come, and only the people who had to stayed in town. Harry met Duplay over at Blinkhampton; Duplay was to join his niece atMerrion in about ten days. He ran against Iver in the street; Iver wasoff to Fairholme by the afternoon train; Mr Neeld, he mentioned, wascoming to stay with him for a couple of weeks on Friday. EvenSouthend--whom Harry encountered in Whitehall, very hot andexhausted--cursed London and talked of a run down to Iver's. Blentmouth, Fairholme, Iver's, Merrion--they all meant Blent. Cecily had gone, andMina; the rest were going there--everybody except the man who threemonths ago had looked to spend his life there as its master. 

And business will grow slack when autumn arrives; it is increasinglydifficult for a man to bury himself in deeds, or plans, or elevations, or calculations, when everybody writes that he is taking his vacation, and that the matter shall have immediate attention on his return. Harrygrew terribly tired of this polite formula. He wanted to buildBlinkhampton out of hand, in the months of August and September. Thework would have done him good service. He was seeking a narcotic. 

For he was in pain. It came on about a week after he had sent his curtacknowledgment of Cecily's letter, laying hold of him, he told himself, just because he had nothing to do, because everybody was taking hisholiday, and Blinkhampton would not get itself bought, and sold, andcontracted for, and planned, and laid out, and built. The politicianswere at it still, for two more hot, weary, sultry weeks, but they wereof little use. Lady Flora had fled to Scotland, Disney was smothered inarrears of work which must be made up before he got a rest. London wasfull of strange faces and outlandish folk. "I must take a holidaymyself, " said Harry in a moment of seeming inspiration. Where, where, where? He suffered under the sensation of having nowhere whither hewould naturally go, no home, no place to which he could return as to hisown. He found himself wishing that he had not torn up Cecily's letter;he remembered its general effect so well that he wanted to read the verywords again, in the secret hope that they would modify and soften hismemory. His own answer met and destroyed the hope; he knew that he wouldhave responded to anything friendly, had it been there. 

Yet what did the letter mean? He interpreted it as Cecily had declaredhe would. When he held Blent, he held it in peace of mind, though inviolation of law, till one came who reproached him in a living body andwith speaking eyes; faced with that, he could find no comfort in Blent. Cecily violated no law, but she violated nature, the natural right inhim. To her then his presence would be intolerable, and she could notfind the desperate refuge that he had chosen. Her only remedy was toforbid him the place. Her instinct drove her to that, and the instinct, so well understood by him, so well known, was to him reason enough. Shecould not feel mistress of Blent while he was there. 

Indeed he had not meant to go. He had told Iver that in perfect goodfaith. It would have been in bad taste for him to think of going--ofgoing anything like so soon as this. Whence then came his new feeling ofdesolation and of hurt? It was partly that he was forbidden to go. Itwas hard to realize that he could see Blent now only by another's willor sufferance. It was even more that now it was no question ofrefraining from going at once, in order to go hereafter with a bettergrace. He awoke to the idea that he was never to go, and in the samemoment to the truth that he had always imagined himself going again, that Blent had always held a place in his picture of the future, thatwhatever he was doing or achieving or winning, there it was in thebackground. Now it was there no more. He could almost say with Mina andwith Cecily herself, "This is the end of it. "

What then of the impressions Mina had gathered from Mr Disney'sdinner-party? It can only be said that when people of impressionablenatures study others of like temperament they should not generalize fromtheir conduct at parties. In society dinners are eaten in disguise, sometimes intentional, sometimes unconscious, but as a rule quiteimpenetrable. If Harry's had been unconscious, if the mood had playedthe man, the deception was the more complete. 

He went to see Lady Evenswood one day; she had sent to express herdesire for a talk before she fled to the country. She had much that waspleasant to say, much of the prospects of his success, of his"training-on, " as easy-mannered Theo had put it to Mina Zabriska. 

"And if you do, you'll be able to think now that you've done it all offyour own bat, " she ended. 

"You've found out my weaknesses, I see, " he laughed. 

"Oh, I doubt if there's any such thing as an absolute strength or anabsolute weakness. They're relative. What's an advantage in one thing isa disadvantage in another. "

"I understand, " he smiled. "My confounded conceit may help me on in theworld, but it doesn't make me a grateful friend or a pleasantcompanion?"

"I believe George Southend agrees as far as the grateful friend part ofit is concerned. And I'm told Lord Hove does as to the rest. But then itwas only Flora Disney herself who said so. "

"And what do you say?"

"Oh, pride's tolerable in anybody except a lover, " she declared. 

"Well, I've known lovers too humble. I told one so once; he believed me, went in, and won. "

"You gave him courage, not pride, Mr Tristram. "

"Perhaps that's true. He's very likely got the pride by now. " He smiledat his thoughts of Bob Broadley. 

"And you've settled down in the new groove?" she asked. 

He hesitated a moment. "Oh, nearly. Possibly there's still a touch ofthe 'Desdichado, ' about me. His would be the only shield I could carry, you see. "

"Stop! Well, I forgive you. You're not often bitter about that. Butyou're very bitter about something, Mr Tristram. "

"I want to work, and nobody will in August. You can't get the better ofyour enemies if they're with their families at Margate or in theEngadine. "

"Oh, go down and stay at Blent. No, I'm serious. You say you're proud. There's a good way of showing good pride. Go and stay in the very house. If you do that, I shall think well of you--and even better than I thinknow of the prospects. "

"I've not been invited. "

"Poor girl, she's afraid to invite you! Write and say you're coming. "

"She'd go away. Yes, she would. She consents to live there only oncondition that I never come. She's told me so. "

"I'm too old a woman to know your family! You upset the wisdom of ages, and I haven't time to learn anything new. "

"I'm not the least surprised. If I were in her place, I should hate tohave her there. "

"Nonsense. In a month or two----"

"If anything's certain, it's that I shall never go to Blent as long asmy cousin owns it. "

"I call it downright wicked. "

"We share the crime, she and I. She lays down the law, I willinglyobey. "

"Willingly?"

"My reason is convinced. Maybe I'm a little homesick. But your month ortwo will serve the purpose there. "

"There's a great deal more in this than you're telling me, MrTristram. "

"Put everything you can imagine into it, and the result's the same. "

She sighed and sat for a moment in pensive silence. Harry seemed toponder too. 

"I'm going to think of nothing but my work, " he announced. 

"So many young men in their early twenties succeed in that!" shemurmured mockingly. 

"Don't those who succeed in anything succeed in that?"

"Not all, happily--and none would if they were your mother's sons. Mydear boy, just open a window in you anywhere--I know you keep them shutwhen you can--but just open even a chink, and Addie peeps out directly!Which means great success or great failure, Harry--and other things onthe same scale, I fancy. Thank goodness--oh, yes, saving your presence, really thank goodness--I'm not like that myself!"

"Shall I prove you wrong?"

"I'm safe. I can't live to see it. And you couldn't prove me wrongwithout opening all the windows. "

"And that I shouldn't do, even to you?"

"Do you ever do it to yourself?"

"Perhaps not, " he laughed. "But once a storm blew them all in, LadyEvenswood, and left me without any screen, and without defences. "

"Have another storm then, " she counselled. She laid a hand on his arm. "Go to Blent. "

"As things stand, I can never go to Blent, I can go onlyto--Blinkhampton. "

"What does little Mina Zabriska say to that?"

"Oh, everything that comes into her head, I suppose, and very volubly. "

"I like her, " said the old lady with emphasis. 

"Is there such a thing as an absolute liking, Lady Evenswood? What'spleasant at one time is abominable at another. And I've known MadameZabriska at the other time. "

"You were probably at the other time yourself. "

"I thought we should agree about the relativity!"

"There may always be a substratum of friendship, " she argued. "You'llsay it's sometimes very _sub_! Ah, well, you're human in the end. You'reabsolutely forgetting Blent--and you spend your time with an old womanbecause she can talk to you about it! Go away and arrange your life, andcome back and tell me all about it. And if you're discontented withlife, remember that you too will reach the stage of being just toldabout it some day. "

Things will come home to a man at last, strive he never so desperatelyagainst them--if the things are true and the man ever honest withhimself. It was one night, a little while after this conversation, thatthe truth came to Harry Tristram and found acceptance or at leastsurrender. His mind had wandered back to that scene in the Long Gallery, and he had fallen to questioning about his own action. There was a newlight on it, and the new light showed him truth. "I must face it; it'snot Blent, " he said aloud. If it were Blent, it was now Blent only as ascene, a frame, a background. When he pictured Blent, Cecily was there;if he thought of her elsewhere, the picture of Blent vanished. He was inlove with her then; and what was the quality that Lady Evenswood hadpraised in a lover? Let him cultivate it how he would--and the culturewould be difficult--yet it would not serve here. If he went to Blentagainst Cecily's commands and his own promise, he could meet withnothing but a rebuff. Yes, he was in love; and he recognized the_impasse_ as fully as Mina herself, although with more self-restraint. But he was glad to know the truth; it strengthened him, and it freed himfrom a scorn of himself with which he had become afflicted. It wasintolerable that a man should be love-sick for a house; it was somesolace to find that the house, in order to hold his affections, musthold a woman too. 

"Now I know where I am, " said Harry. He knew what he had to meet now; hethought he knew how he could treat himself. He went down to Blinkhamptonthe next morning, harried his builder out of a holiday expedition, andgot a useful bit of work in hand. It was, he supposed, inevitable thatCecily should journey with him in the spirit to Blinkhampton; heflattered himself that she got very little chance while he was there. She was the enemy, he declared, with a half-peevish half-humorous smile. It was not altogether without amusement to invent all manner of devicesand all sorts of occupations to evade and elude her. He ventured todeclare--following the precedents--that she had treated him shamefully. That broke down. Candor insisted once again on his admitting that hehimself would have done exactly the same thing. It never occurred to himto regret, even for a moment, that he had not taken her at her word, andhad not accepted her offer. That would have been to spoil his dream, notto realize it. He asked perfection or nothing, being still unhealed ofthat presumptuous way of his, which bade the world go hang if it wouldnot give him exactly what he chose. The Tristram motto was still, "Nocompromise!"

An unexpected ally came to his assistance. He received a sudden summonsfrom Mr Disney. He found him at work, rather weary and dishevelled. Helet Harry in at once, but kept him waiting while he transacted someother business. Here was the place to see him, not in a drawing-room;his brusque words and quick decisions enabled him to do two men's work. He turned to Harry and said without preface:

"We're going to arbitrate this Barililand question, on behalf of theCompany, you know, as well as ourselves. Another instance of myweakness! Lord Murchison's going over for us. He starts in a fortnight. He asked me to recommend him a secretary. Will you go?"

Here was help in avoiding Cecily. But what about Blinkhampton? Harryhesitated a moment. 

"I should like it, but I've contracted certain obligations of a businesskind at home, " he said. 

"Well, if you're bound, keep your word and do the work. If you findyou're not, I should advise you to take this. It's a good beginning. This is Tuesday. Tell me on Saturday. Good-by. " He rang a hand-bell onthe table, and, as his secretary entered, said, "The Canadian papers, please. "

"I'm very grateful to you, anyhow. "

"That's all right, Tristram. Good-by. "

There was no doubt what would be the practical way of showing gratitude. Harry went out. 

He left Mr Disney's presence determined to accept the offer if Ivercould spare his services for the time. The determining cause was stillBlent, or his cousin at Blent. Blinkhampton was not far enough away; itrather threw him with people who belonged to the old life than partedhim from them. He was weak himself too; while the people were at hand, he would seek them, as he had sought Lady Evenswood. At the Arbitrationhe would be far off, beyond the narrow seas and among folk who, recognizing the peculiarity of his position, would make a point of notmentioning Blent or speaking of anybody connected with it. It was fromthis point of view that he was inclined toward the offer, and he did notdisguise it from himself; but for it he would rather have gone on withBlinkhampton, perhaps because he had a free hand there, while he couldgo to the Arbitration only as a subordinate. Blent apart, the offer wasvaluable to him as a sign of Disney's appreciation rather than on itsown account. 

He went home and wrote to Iver. The letter weighed all considerationssave the one which really weighed with him; he put himself fairly inIver's hands but did not conceal his own wish; he knew that if Iver wereagainst the idea on solid business grounds, he would not be affected byHarry's personal preference. But the business reasons, when examined, did not seem very serious, and Harry thought that he would get leave togo. He rose from his writing with a long sigh. If he received the answerhe expected, he was at the parting of the ways; and he had chosen thepath that led directly and finally away from Blent. 

An evening paper was brought to him. A tremendous headline caught hisnotice. "Resignation of Lord Hove! He will not arbitrate aboutBarililand. Will the Government break up?" Probably not, thought Harry;and it was odd to reflect that, if Lord Hove had got his way, he wouldhave lost his heroic remedy. So great things and small touch andintersect one another. Perhaps Theo (who could now settle that questionabout the kicking with his friends) would maintain that Flora Disney hadtalked too much to Harry at dinner, instead of taking all pains tosoothe Lord Hove!

It was his last struggle; he had no doubt that he could win, but thefight was very fierce. Impatient of his quiet rooms, he went out intothe crowded streets. At first he found himself envying everybody hepassed--the cabman on his box, the rough young fellows escaped from thefactory, the man who sold matches and had no cares beyond food and abed. But presently he forgot them all and walked among shadows. He wasat Blent in spirit, sometimes with Addie Tristram, sometimes withCecily. His imagination undid what his hand had done; he was smilingagain at the efforts of Duplay to frighten or to displace him. Thus hewould be happy for a moment, till reality came back and a dead dulnesssettled on his soul. Half afraid of himself, he turned round and madefor home again; he could not be sure of his self-control. But again hemastered that, and again paced the streets, now in a grim resolution totire mind and body, so that these visions should have nothing to work onand, finding blank unresponsive weariness, should go their ways andleave him in an insensible fatigue. Ever since he disclaimed hisinheritance he had been living in a stress of excitement that had givenhim a fortitude half unnatural; now this support seemed to fail, andwith it went the power to bear. 

The remedy worked well; at eight o'clock he found himself very tired, very hungry, unexpectedly composed. He turned into a little restaurantto dine. The place was crowded, and rather shamefacedly (as is thenational way) he sat down at a small table opposite a girl in alight-blue blouse and a very big hat, who was eating risotto anddrinking lager beer. She assumed an air of exaggerated primness andgentility, keeping her eyes down toward her plate, and putting verysmall quantities into her mouth at a time. Glad of distraction, Harrywatched her with amusement. At last she glanced up stealthily. 

"A fine evening, " he said, as he started on his chop. 

"Very seasonable, " she began in a mincing tone; but suddenly she brokeoff to exclaim in a voice and accent more natural and spontaneous, "Goodgracious, I've seen you before, haven't I?"

"I'm not aware that I ever had the honor, " said Harry. 

"Well, I know your face, anyhow. " She was looking at him and searchingher memory. "You're not at the halls, are you?"

"No, I'm not at the halls. "

"Well, I do know your face--Why, yes, I've seen your face in the papers. I shall get it in a minute now--don't you tell me. " She studied him withdetermination. Harry ate away in contented amusement. "Yes, you're theman who--why, yes, you're Tristram?"

"That's right. I'm Tristram. "

"Well, to think of that! Meeting you! Well, I shall have something totell the girls. Why, a friend of mine wrote down to the country, special, for your photo. "

"That must have proved a disappointment, I'm afraid. The romance wasbetter than the hero. "

"You may say romance!" she conceded heartily. "To be a lord and----!"She leant forward. "I say, how do you get your living now?"

"Gone into the building-trade, " he answered. 

"You surprise me!" The observation was evidently meant to be extremelycivil. "But there, it isn't so much what your job is as having some job. That's what I say. "

"I wish I always said--and thought--things as sensible;" and he tookcourage to offer her another glass of lager. She accepted with a slightrecrudescence of primness; but her eyes did not leave him now. "I neverdid!" he heard her murmur as she raised her glass. "Well, here's luck toyou, sir! (He had been a lord even if he were now a builder). You didthe straight thing in the end. "

"What?" asked Harry, a little startled. 

"Well, some did say as you'd known it all along. Oh, I don't say so;some did. "

Harry began to laugh. "It doesn't matter, does it, if I did the straightthing in the end?"

"I'm sure as I shouldn't blame you if you had been a bit tempted. I knowwhat that is! Well, sir, I'll say good-evening. "

"Good-evening, miss, and thank you very much, " said Harry, rising as sherose. His manner had its old touch of lordliness. His friends criticisedthat sometimes; this young lady evidently approved. 

"You've no cause to thank me, " said she, with an admiring look. 

"Yes, I have. As it happened, I believe I wanted somebody to remind methat I had done the straight thing in the end, and I'm much obliged toyou for doing it. "

"Well, I shall have something to tell the girls!" she said again inwondering tones, as she nodded to him and turned slowly away. 

Harry was comforted. The stress of his pain was past. He sat on over hissimple meal in a leisurely comfortable fashion. He was happy in the factthat his enemy had at least nothing with which she could reproach him, that he had no reason for not holding his head erect before her. And thegirl's philosophy had been good. He had a job, and that was the greatthing in this world. He felt confident that the struggle was won now, and that it would never have to be fought again in so severe a fashion. His self-respect was intact; if he had been beaten, he would never haveforgiven himself. 

He regained his rooms. A letter lay waiting for him on the table. Heopened it and found that it was from Mina Zabriska. 

 "We are back here, " she wrote. "I am staying at Blent till my uncle comes down. I must write and say good-by to you. I dare say we shall never meet again, or merely by chance. I am very unhappy about it all, but with two people like Cecily and you nothing else could have happened. I see that now, and I'm not going to try to interfere any more. I shan't ask you to forgive me for interfering, because you've made the result quite enough punishment for anything I did wrong. And now Cecily goes about looking just like you--hard and proud and grim; and she's begun to move things about and alter arrangements at Blent. That's what brings it home to me most of all. ('And to me, ' interposed Harry as he read. ) If I was the sort of woman you think me, I should go on writing to you. But I shan't write again. I am going to stay at Merrion through the winter, and since you won't come here, this is the last of me for a long time anyhow. Oh, you Tristrams! Good-by, MINA ZABRISKA. "

"Poor little Imp!" said Harry. "She's a very good sort; and she seemsabout right. It's the end of everything. " He paused and looked round. "Except of these rooms--and my work--and, well, life at large, youknow!" He laughed in the sudden realization of how much was left afterthere was an end of all--life to be lived, work to be done, enjoymentsto be won. He could know this, although he could hardly yet feel it inany very genuine fashion. He could project his mind forward to a futureappreciation of what he could not at the moment relish; and he saw thatlife would be full and rich with him, even although there were an end ofall. "But I don't believe, " he said to himself, slowly smiling, "that Ishould ever have come to understand that or to--to fulfil it unless Ihad--what did the girl say?--done the straight thing in the end, andcome out of Blent. Well, old Blent, good-by!" He crumpled up Mina'sletter, and flung it into the grate. 

The maid-servant opened the door. "Two gentlemen to see you, sir, " shesaid. 

"Oh, say I'm busy----" he began. 

"We must see you, please, " insisted Mr Jenkinson Neeld, with unusualfirmness. He turned to the man with him, saying: "Here is Mr Tristram, Colonel Edge. "

XXV

THERE'S THE LADY TOO!

There was nothing very remarkable about Colonel Wilmot Edge. He was aslightly built, trim man, but his trimness was not distinctivelymilitary. He might have been anything, save that just now the tan on hisface witnessed to an out-of-door life. His manner was cold, his methodof speech leisurely and methodical. At first sight Harry saw nothing inhim to modify the belief in which he had grown up--that the Edges werean unattractive race, unable to appreciate Tristrams, much less worthyto mate with them. He gave the Colonel a chair rather grudgingly, andturned to old Mr Neeld for an explanation of the visit. 

Neeld had fussed himself into a seat already, and had drawn some sheetsof paper covered with type-writing from his pocket. He spread them out, smoothed them down, cleared his throat, and answered Harry's look by aglance at Edge. Mr Neeld was in a fidget, a fidget of importance andexpectancy. 

"You will know, " said Edge gravely, "that no ordinary matter has led meto call on you, Mr Tristram. However little we may be responsible forthe past, we have to recognize it. I should not, under ordinarycircumstances, have sought your acquaintance. You must consider thisinterview purely as one of a business kind. I have just returned toEngland. For two months I have been out of the way of receiving lettersor newspapers. I went to the Imperium Club to-night--I arrived onlythis morning--and dined in Neeld's company. As it chanced, we spoke ofyou, and I learnt what has happened since I left England. I have lost notime in calling on you. "

Neeld was listening and fidgeting with his sheets of paper. TheColonel's preamble excited little interest in Harry. The reaction of hisstruggle was on him; he was courteously but not keenly attentive. 

"It is not agreeable to me to speak of my brother to you, Mr Tristram. Doubtless we should differ if we discussed his character and conduct. Itis not necessary. "

"Is Sir Randolph Edge concerned in what you have to say to me?" askedHarry. 

"Yes, I am sorry to say he is. Another person is concerned also. "

"One moment. You are, of course, aware that I no longer represent myfamily? Legally I'm not even a member of it. It is possible that youought to address yourself to Lady Tristram--my cousin--or to herlawyers. "

"I have to speak to you. Is the name of the Comtesse d'Albreville knownto you, Mr Tristram?"

"Yes, I've heard my mother speak of meeting her in Paris. "

"That would be when Lady Tristram was residing with my brother?"

"My mother was never in Paris after that, I believe. It would be at thattime, Colonel Edge. "

"You are aware that later--after he parted from Lady Tristram--mybrother went to Russia, where he had business interests?"

"I have very good reason to know that. " Harry smiled at Mr Neeld, whohad apparently got all he could out of his papers, and was sitting quietand upright in an eager attention. 

"What I am about to say is known, I believe, to myself alone--and toNeeld here, to whom I told it to-night. While my brother was in Russia, he was joined by the Comtesse. She paid him a visit--secretly, I needhardly add. She passed under the name of Madame Valfier, and she residedin the house adjoining Randolph's. Lady Tristram was not, of course, aware of the relations between her and my brother. I will come now tothe time of my brother's death. When he fell ill, he had just completedthe sale of one of his Russian properties. Lady Tristram did not, I daresay, speak of the Comtesse's character to you?"

"I never remember hearing my mother speak of anybody's character, " saidHarry with a smile. 

"She was a brilliant woman--she died, by the way, two or three yearsago--but extravagant and fond of money. She prevailed on my brother topromise her the price of this property as a gift. The sum wasconsiderable--about seven thousand pounds. "

Harry nodded. Here seemed to be some possible light on the reasons forthe interview. 

"This money was to be paid--in gold--on a certain day. I speak now frominformation imparted to me subsequently by the Comtesse herself. It wasgiven under a promise of secrecy which I have kept hitherto, but nowfind myself compelled in honesty to break. "

"There can be no question of what is your duty, Edge, " Mr Neeld put in. 

"I think none. My brother during his illness discussed the matter withthe Comtesse. The money was payable in Petersburg. He could not hope tobe well enough to go there. At her suggestion he signed a paperauthorizing payment to be made to her or to an agent appointed by her. The money being destined for her ultimately, this naturally seemed thebest arrangement. She could go and receive the money, or send forit--as a fact she went in person when the time came--and all would besettled. "

"Quite so. And the transaction would not appear on the face of SirRandolph's accounts or bank-book, " Harry suggested. 

"It's possible that weight was given to that consideration too, but itis not very material. The Comtesse, then, was in possession of thisauthority. My brother's illness took a turn for the worse. To be brief, he died before the day came on which the money was to be paid. "

"And she presented the authority all the same?" asked Harry. "And gotthe money, did she?"

"That is precisely the course she adopted, " assented Colonel Edge. 

Harry took a walk up and down the room and returned to the hearthrug. 

"I'm very sensible of your kindness in coming here to-day, " he said, "and your conduct is that of a man of honor. But at this point I'll stopyou, please. I'm aware that _prima facie_ the law would pronounce me tobe Sir Randolph's son. That has always been disclaimed on our side andcould easily be disproved on yours. I have nothing to do with SirRandolph Edge or his property. "

The Colonel listened unmoved. 

"In any case you would have nothing to do with my brother's property, "he remarked. "He left a will by which I was constituted sole legatee. "

"Then if she robbed anybody she robbed you?"

"Certainly; and three years later she came and told me so. "

"Then how in the world does it concern me?" cried Harry impatiently. 

"You put your finger on the spot, Mr Tristram, but you took it offagain. You said she presented the authority all the same. "

"Yes. The authority would be revoked by his death. At least I supposethere's no question of that? Did she get at them before they heard ofthe death?"

"This money was payable on the 22nd June--the 10th as it's reckoned inRussia--but we needn't trouble about that. As you and Neeld are bothaware, on the 18th my brother fell into a collapse which was mistakenfor death. "

"Yes, the 18th, " murmured Neeld, referring to the paper before him, andreading Josiah Cholderton's account of what Madame de Kries had told himat Heidelberg. 

"From that attack he rallied temporarily, but not until his death hadbeen reported. "

"I am not the man to forget that circumstance, " said Harry. 

"The report of his death was, of course, contradicted immediately. Thedoctor attending him saw to that. "

"Naturally; and I suppose the Comtesse would see to it too. "

"And the only importance that the occurrence of the 18th has for us atpresent is that, according to the Comtesse's story, it suggested to thedoctor the course which she, on his prompting as she declared andcertainly with his connivance, afterward adopted. My brother, havingrallied from his first collapse, kept up the fight a little whilelonger. It was, however, plain to the doctor that he could live but avery short time. The Comtesse knew this. My brother was not in acondition to transact business and was incapable of securing to her anybenefit by testamentary disposition even if he had wished to do so. Heronly chance was the money for the property. This she saw her way tosecuring with the doctor's help, even although my brother should diebefore it fell due and the authority she held should thereby lose itslegal validity. "

"You mean that they determined to carry out a fraud if necessary?"

"Precisely. I must remind you that my brother knew nothing of this. Hewas altogether past understanding anything about it. I may be very briefnow, but I am still anxious that you should fully understand. All thatI'm saying to you is beyond question and can be proved at any time bytaking evidence on the spot; it is easily available. "

Harry had sat down by now and was listening intently. 

"On the morning of the 22nd, " Edge pursued in his level methodical way, "the Comtesse went to the station escorted by Dr Migratz; that was hisname--rather that is his name; he is still alive. On the way they metthe British Vice-Consul, and in reply to inquiries from him said that mybrother had had another attack but had rallied again. Dr Migratzexpressed the opinion that he would live another two days, while MadameValfier (the Vice-Consul knew her by that name) was sanguine enough totalk of the possibility of a recovery. She impressed him very much byher courage and hopefulness; she was, I may remark, a handsome andattractive woman. Leaving the Vice-Consul, they reached the station andthere parted. Migratz returned immediately to my brother's house andremained there, the case being declared to be so critical as to requireunremitting attention. Madame Valfier--the Comtesse--took the train toPetersburg, reached it that evening, presented the authority early nextmorning, and was back about midnight--that being the 23rd. The next daymy brother's death was announced, certified by Migratz, and dulyregistered as the law of the place required. " He drew a paper from hispocket. "This is a copy of the entry, showing death on the 24th. "

"That document is very familiar to me, Colonel Edge. It gives bothstyles, doesn't it?"

"Yes, both styles, but--Well, you see for yourself. My story is done. With Migratz's connivance--a woman who acted as nurse was squared too, and her evidence is available--the actual date of death was concealed, and the Comtesse d'Albreville had time to present her authority andreceive the money. After paying her accomplices their price, she leftRussia with the bulk of it immediately. "

Harry glanced at Neeld; the old man's face was full of excitement andhis hand trembled as it lay on the leaves of Josiah Cholderton'sJournal. 

"My mother was married to my father on the 23rd, " said Harry slowly. 

"My brother died on the 22nd, " said Wilmot Edge. "He was dead before theComtesse started for Petersburg. "

Harry made no comment. He sat still and thoughtful. 

"Of course I was put on the track of the affair, " Edge pursued, "by thedisappearance of the money. I had little difficulty in guessing thatthere had been something queer, but what it was did not cross my mindfor a long while. Even after I had a clew, I found Migratz a toughcustomer, and for a long time I totally failed to identify MadameValfier. When, thanks to a series of chances, I did so, it was a shockto me. She was the wife of a man of high position and high reputation. She had contrived--she was a remarkable woman--to carry out thisexpedition of hers without rousing any suspicion; she had returned toher husband and children. Finding herself in danger, she took the boldcourse of throwing herself on my mercy, and sent for me to Paris. It wasnot my desire to rake up the story, to injure my brother's memory, or tobreak up the woman's home. I pocketed the loss as far as I wasconcerned. As for you, I didn't know you were concerned. I had nevergone into the details; I accepted the view which your own conduct, andLady Tristram's, suggested. I promised silence, guarding myself by aproviso that I must speak if the interests of third persons were everaffected. Your interests are affected now, and I have spoken, MrTristram--or Lord Tristram, as I undoubtedly ought to say. "

Harry turned to Mr Neeld with a smile and pointed at the leaves of theJournal. 

"There was something Cholderton didn't know after all, " he said. "Athird date--neither the 18th nor the 24th! Twenty-four hours! Well, Isuppose it's enough!"

"It's enough to make all the difference to you, " said Neeld. "It makesthe action you took in giving up your position unnecessary and wrong. Itrestores the state of things which existed----"

"Before you and Mina Zabriska came to Blent--and brought Mr Cholderton?"He sat smiling a moment. "Forgive me; I'm very inhospitable, " he said, and offered them cigarettes and whiskey. 

Neeld refused; the Colonel took both. 

"You may imagine with what feelings I heard your story, " Edge resumed, "and found that the Comtesse's fraud was really the entire basis of youraction. If I had been in England the thing need never have happened. "

"It has happened, " said Harry, "and--and I don't quite know where weare. " For the world was all altered again, just when the struggle of theevening had seemed to settle it. The memory of the girl in therestaurant flashed across his mind. What would she--what would she sayto this?

Colonel Edge was evidently rather a talkative man. He began again, rather as though he were delivering a little set speech. 

"It's perhaps hardly to be expected, " he said, "that any degree ofintimacy should exist between your family and mine, Lord Tristram, but Iventure to hope that the part which it has been my privilege to playto-day may do something to obliterate the memories of the past. We don'tperhaps know all the rights of it. I am loyal to my brother, but I knewthe late Lady Tristram, and I can appreciate all that her friends valuedand prized in her. "

"Very good, Edge, very good, " murmured emotional old Mr Neeld. "Veryproper, most proper. "

"And I hope that old quarrels need not be eternal?"

"I'm very much in your debt, and I'm sincerely grateful, Colonel Edge. As for the past--There are graves; let it lie in them. "

"Thank you, Lord Tristram, thank you, " and the Colonel gave Harry hishand. 

"Excellent, excellent!" muttered Mr Neeld as he folded up the leaves ofJosiah Cholderton's diary. 

"You can call on me for proofs whenever you wish to proceed. After whathas occurred, I presume they will be necessary. "

"Yes, yes--for his seat, " assented Neeld. 

"And to satisfy public opinion, " added Edge. 

There was a pause. Neeld broke it by saying timidly:

"And--er--there is, of course, the--the lady. The lady who now holds thetitle and estates. "

"Of course!" agreed Edge, with a nod that apologized for forgetfulness. 

Of course there was! Harry smiled. He had been wondering how long theywould take to think of the lady who now held the title and estates. Well, they had come to her at last--after providing for the requirementsof the House of Lords and the demands of public opinion--aftersatisfying the girl in the restaurant, in fact. Yes, of course, therewas the lady too. 

Though he smiled, he was vexed and suffered a vague disappointment. Itis to be wished that things would happen in a manner harmonious withtheir true nature--the tragic tragically, the comic so that laughterroars out, the melodramatic with the proper limelight effects. To do theTristrams justice, this was generally achieved where they wereconcerned; Harry could have relied on his mother and on Cecily; he couldrely on himself if he were given a suitable environment, one thatappealed to him and afforded responsive feelings. The family was not inthe habit of wasting its opportunities for emotion. But who could beemotional now--in face of these two elderly gentlemen? Neeld's examplemade such a thing ridiculous, Colonel Edge would obviously consider itunsoldier-like. The chance had been frittered away; life was at its oldgame of neglecting its own possibilities. There was nothing but toacquiesce; fine melodrama had been degraded into a business interviewwith two elderly and conscientious gentlemen. The scene in the LongGallery had at least been different from this! Harry bowed his head; hemust be thankful for small blessings; it was something that they hadremembered the lady at last. 

At a glance from Edge, Neeld rose to go. 

"Pray wait--wait a minute or two, " begged Harry. "I want to think for aminute. "

Neeld sat down again. It is very likely they were as surprised at him ashe was childishly vexed with them. For he exhibited perfect calm. Yetperhaps Colonel Edge, who had given so colorless an account of theComtesse's wild appeal to him, was well suited. 

"I'm going down to Iver's to-morrow, " said old Neeld, tucking theextract from the Journal into his pocket. 

"To Iver's?" After a moment's silence Harry fairly laughed. Edge wassurprised, not understanding what a difference the Comtesse's manœuvrehad made there too. He could not be expected to know all the differenceit had made to Harry's life, even to the man himself. Two irresponsibleladies--say Addie and--well, Madame Valfier--may indeed makedifferences. 

"Yes, to Fairholme, " continued old Neeld. "We--we may see you therenow?"

Edge looked up with an interested glance. It had occurred to him that hewas turning somebody out as well as putting somebody in. 

"You'll have, of course, to communicate what I have said to--to----?

"Oh, we'll say Lady Tristram still, " Harry interrupted. 

Edge gave a little bow. "I shall be ready to meet her or her advisers atany time, " he remarked. "She will, I hope, recognize that no othercourse was open to me. She must not think that there is any room fordoubt. "

Harry's brain was at work now; he saw himself going to Blent, going totell Cecily. 

"Possibly, " Mr Neeld suggested, "it would be better to intrust a thirdperson with the task of giving her this news? One of her own sexperhaps?" He seemed to contemplate a possible fainting-fit, and, remembering his novels, the necessity of cutting stay-laces, a taskbetter left to women. 

"You're thinking of Mina? Of Mina Zabriska?" asked Harry, laughing. There again, what a loss! Why had not Mina heard it at first hand? Shewould have known how to treat the thing. 

"She's always taken a great interest in the matter, and--and Iunderstand is very friendly with--with Miss Gainsborough, " said Neeld. 

"We shall have to make up our minds what to call ourselves soon, " sighedHarry. 

"There can be no doubt at all, " Edge put in; "and if I may venture tosuggest, I should say that the sooner the necessity is faced thebetter. "

"Certainly, certainly, " Harry assented absently. Even the girl in therestaurant must know about it soon; there must be another pow-wowing inall the papers soon. But what would Cecily say? "If ever the timecomes----. " He had laughed at that; it had sounded so unlikely, sounreal, so theatrical. "If ever the time comes, I shall remember. " Thatwas a strange thing to look back to now. But it was all strange--theaffair of the beastly new viscounty, Blinkhampton and its buildings, theArbitration and the confidence of Mr Disney. Madame Valfier--Comtessed'Albreville--with a little help from Addie Tristram had brought allthese things about. The result of Harry's review of them was Englishenough to satisfy Wilmot Edge himself. 

"The whole thing makes me look rather an ass, I think, " said he. 

"No doubt you acted impulsively, " Edge allowed. It was fully equivalentto an assent. 

"Good heavens, I'd been brought up to it! It had always been the fact ofmy life. " He made no pretences about the matter now. "It never occurredto me to think of any mistake. That certificate"--it lay on the tablestill--"was the sword of Damocles. " He laughed as he spoke the hackneyedold phrase. "And Damocles knew the sword was there, or there'd havebeen no point in it. "

The two had rather lost track of his mood. They looked at one anotheragain. 

"You've a lot to think of. We'll leave you, " said the Colonel. 

"But--but what am I to do?" Old Neeld's voice was almost a bleat in hisdespair. "Am I to tell people at Blentmouth?"

"The communication should come from an authoritative quarter, " Edgeadvised. 

"It's bound to be a blow to her, " said Neeld. "Suddenly lifted up, suddenly thrown down! Poor girl!"

"Justice is the first thing, " declared Wilmot Edge. Now he might havebeen on a court-martial. 

They knew nothing whatever of the truth or the true position. 

"We may rely on--on Lord Tristram--to treat the matter with everydelicacy, Edge. "

"I'm sure of it, Neeld, I'm sure of it. "

"He has been through what is practically the same experience himself. "

"A very remarkable case, very remarkable. The state of the law whichmakes such a thing possible----"

"Ah, there I don't agree, Edge. There may be hardships on individuals, but in the interests of morality----"

"You must occasionally put up with damned absurdity, " Harry interruptedrather roughly. "I beg your pardon, Mr Neeld. I--I'm a bit worried overthis. "

They sat silent then, watching him for a few moments. He stood leaninghis arm on the mantel-piece, his brows knit but a smile lingering on hislips. He was seeing the scene again, the scene in which he was to tellCecily. He knew what the end of it would be. They were strangers now. The scene would leave them strangers still. Still Mina Zabriska would beleft to cry, "You Tristrams!" Given that they were Tristrams, no otherresult was possible. They had been through what Mr. Neeld calledpractically the same experience already; in that very room it hadhappened. 

Suddenly the two men saw a light born in Harry's eyes; his brow grewsmooth, the smile on his lips wider. He gave a moment's moreconsideration to the new thing. Then he raised his head and spoke toWilmot Edge. 

"There are a good many complications in this matter, Colonel Edge. I'vehad my life upset once before, and I assure you it's rather troublesomework. It wants a little time and a little thinking. You get ratherconfused--always changing your train, you know. I have work onhand--plans and so forth. And, as you say, of course there's the ladytoo. " He laughed as he ended by borrowing Neeld's phrase. 

"I can understand all that, Lord Tristram. "

"Do you mind saying Mr. Tristram? Saying Mr. Tristram to me and toeverybody for the present? It won't be for long; a week perhaps. "

"You mean, keep the change in the position a secret?" Edge seemed ratherstartled. 

"You've kept the secret for many years, Colonel. Shall we say a weekmore? And you too, Mr. Neeld? Nothing at all to the people atBlentmouth? Shall we keep Miss S. In the dark for a week more?" Thethought of Miss Swinkerton carried obvious amusement with it. 

"You mean to choose your opportunity with--with your cousin?" Neeldasked. 

"Yes, exactly--to choose my opportunity. You see the difficult characterof the situation? I ask your absolute silence for a week. "

"Really I----" Old Neeld hesitated a little. "These concealments lead tosuch complications, " he complained. He was thinking, no doubt, of theIver engagement and the predicament in which it had landed him. 

"I don't ask it on my own account. There's my cousin. "

"Yes, yes, Neeld, there's the lady too. "

"Well, Edge, if you're satisfied, I can't stand out. For a weekthen--silence. "

"Absolute!" said Harry. "Without a look or a word?"

"You have my promise, " said Wilmot Edge. 

"And mine. But--but I shall feel very awkward, " sighed poor Mr Neeld. Hemight have added that he did feel a sudden and poignant pang ofdisappointment. Lived there the man who would not have liked to carrythat bit of news in his portmanteau when he went out of town? At leastthat man was not Mr Jenkinson Neeld. 

"I'll choose my time, and I won't keep you long, " said Harry. 

With that they left him. But they had a word together before Edge caughthis 'bus in Piccadilly. 

"Cool young chap!" said he. "Took it quietly enough. "

"Yes, considering the enormous difference it makes, " agreed Neeld. Hisuse of that particular phrase was perhaps an unconscious reminiscence ofthe words in the Journal, the words that Addie used when she burst intoMadame de Kries's room at Heidelberg. 

Edge chuckled a little. "Not much put out about the girl either, eh?"

"Now you say so----" Neeld shook his head. "I hope he'll do ittactfully, " he sighed. 

Edge did not seem to consider that likely. He in his turn shook hishead. 

"I said no more than I thought about Addie Tristram, " he remarked. "Butthe fact is, they're a rum lot, and there's no getting over it, Neeld. "

"They--er--have their peculiarities, no doubt, " admitted Mr. Neeld. 

XXVI

A BUSINESS CALL

"My dear, isn't there something odd about Mr Neeld?" Mrs Iver put thequestion, her anxious charity struggling with a natural inquisitiveness. 

"About Neeld? I don't know. Is there?" He did not so much as look upfrom his paper. "He's coming with us to Blent to-night, I suppose?"

"Yes. And he seems quite excited about that. And he was positively rudeto Miss Swinkerton at lunch, when she told him that Lady Tristram meantto give a ball next winter. I expect his nerves are out of order. "

Small wonder if they were, surely! Let us suppose Guy Fawkes's schemenot prematurely discovered, and one Member of a full House privy to itand awaiting the result. That Member's position would be very like MrNeeld's. Would he listen to the debate with attention? Could he answerquestions with sedulous courtesy?

From the moment of his arrival Mr Neeld had been plunged into theTristram affair, and surrounded by people who were connected with it. But it must be admitted that he had it on his brain and saw iteverywhere. For to-day it was not the leading topic of the neighborhood, and Miss S. 's observation had been only by the way. The engagement wasthe topic, and only Neeld (or perhaps Mina Zabriska too, at Blent), insisted on digging up a hypothetical past and repeating, inretrospective rumination, that Harry Tristram might have been the luckyman. As for such an idea--well, Miss S. Happened to know that there hadnever been anything in it; Janie Iver herself had told her so, she said. The question between Janie and Miss S. , which this assertion raises, maybe passed by without discussion. 

He had met Gainsborough essaying a furtive entry into Blentmouth andheading toward the curiosity-shop--with a good excuse this time. It wasCecily's birthday, and the occasion, which was to be celebrated by adinner-party, must be marked by a present also. Neeld went with thelittle gentleman, and they bought a bit of old Chelsea (which lookedvery young for its age). Coming out, Gainsborough sighted Mrs Trumblercoming up High Street and Miss S. Coming down it. He doubled up a sidestreet to the churchyard, Neeld pursuing him at a more leisurely pace. 

"It's positively worthy of a place at Blent--in the Long Gallery, "panted Gainsborough, hugging his brown-paper-covered prize. "You'll beinterested to see the changes we're making, Mr Neeld. Cecily has begunto take an enormous interest in the house, and I--I'm settling down. "

"You don't regret London ever?"

"I shall run up now and then. My duty is to my daughter. Of course herlife is changed. " He sighed as he added, "We're getting quite used tothat. "

"She has come to love the place, I dare say?"

"Yes, yes. She's in very good spirits and quite happy in her positionnow, I think. " He glanced over his shoulder. Miss S. Was in sight. "Good-by. So glad we shall see you to-night. " He made his escape at arun. Neeld, having been interrogated at lunch already, was allowed topass by with a lift of his hat. 

Janie was very happy. She at least thought no more of that bygoneepisode. She asked no questions about Harry Tristram. He had dropped outof her life. He seemed to have dropped out of the life of thecountryside too. That was strange anyhow, when it was remembered howlarge a local figure the young man had cut when Neeld came first toFairholme; it was stranger still in view of what must soon be. Theannouncement of the engagement seemed to assume to write _Finis_ toHarry as a factor in Blentmouth society. In that point of view themoment chosen for it was full of an unconscious irony. Janie would nothave gone back to him now, and Neeld did not suspect her of any feelingwhich could have made that possible. It was merely odd that she shouldbe putting an appropriate finish to a thing which in the meantime hadbeen suddenly, absolutely, and radically undone. Neeld was loyal to hisword; but none may know the terrible temptation he suffered; a nod, awink, a hint, an ambiguity--anything would have given him some relief. 

Harry was mentioned only once--in connection with his letter to Iverabout the Arbitration. Iver was not inclined to let him go. 

"He has great business ability. It's a pity to waste his time. He canmake money, Neeld. "

"Disney's a good friend to have, " Neeld suggested. 

"If he stays in, yes. But this thing won't be popular. "

Neeld could maintain no interest in the conversation. It had to proceedall along on a baseless presumption, to deal with a state of thingswhich did not exist. What might be wise for Harry--HarryNothing-at-all--might be unwise for Tristram of Blent, and conversely. 

"I must leave it to him, " Iver concluded. "But I shall tell him that Ihope he won't go. He's got his way in the world to make first. He cantry politics later on, if he likes. "

"No doubt you're right, " murmured old Neeld, both uneasy anduninterested. He was feeling something of what he had experienced oncebefore; he knew the truth and he had to keep his friend in the dark. Inthose earlier days he had one confidant, one accomplice, in MinaZabriska. The heavy secret was all his own to carry now. 

As a consequence of his preoccupation Janie Iver found him ratherunsympathetic, and with her usual candor she told him so. 

"You don't really appreciate Bob, " said she. "Nobody quite knows himexcept me. I didn't use to, but now I know what a strong character hehas. "

Unwontedly cynical thoughts rose in old Mr Neeld. Had he come down toFairholme to listen to the platitudes of virtuous love? Indeed he hadcome for no such thing. All young men have strong characters while theyare engaged. 

"And it's such a comfort to have a man one can lean upon, " Janiepursued, looking, however, admirably capable of standing withoutextraneous support. 

There it was again! She'd be calling him her "master" next--as theheroine does in the Third Act, to unfailing applause. What was all thisto ears that listened for a whisper of Harry Tristram?

"The most delightful thing is, " Janie pursued, "that our marriage is tomake no change at all in his way of life. We're going to live at Minghamjust as he has lived all his life--a real country life on a farm!" Therewas no hint that other ideals of existence had ever possessed analluring charm; the high life with Harry, the broad and cosmopolitanlife with the Major--where were they? "I've insisted on it, the onething I've had my own way in. "

Bob was being transmogrified into a Man of Iron, if not of Blood. VainlyMr Neeld consulted his memories. 

"And Mingham's so bound up with it all. I used to go there with MinaZabriska. " She smiled in retrospect; it would have been pardonable ifNeeld had smiled too. "I haven't seen her for ever so long, " Janieadded, "but she'll be at Blent to-night. "

Ah, if he might give just the barest hint to Mina now!

"Bob isn't particularly fond of her, you see, so we don't meet much now. He thinks she's rather spiteful. "

"Not at all, " said Neeld, almost sharply. "She's a very intelligentwoman. "

"Oh yes, intelligent!" She said no more. If people did not agree withBob--well, there it was. 

Bob bore his idealization very well. It was easy to foresee a happy anda remarkably equable married life. But the whole thing had no flavor forMr Neeld's palate, spoilt by the spices of Tristram vagaries. A decentshow of friendliness was all he could muster. It was all that Iverhimself seemed to expect; he was resigned but by no means exultant. 

"The girl's very happy, and that's the thing. For myself--well, I've gotmost of the things I started to get, and if this isn't quite what Ilooked forward to--Well, you remember how things fell out?"

Neeld nodded. He remembered that very well. 

"And, as I say, it's all very satisfactory. " He shrugged his shouldersand relighted his cigar. He was decidedly a reasonable man, thoughtNeeld. 

The evening came--Neeld had been impatient for it--and they drove overto Blent, where Bob was to meet them. 

"It's a fine place for a girl to have, " said Iver, stirred to a suddensense of the beauty of the old house as it came into view. 

They were all silent for a moment. Such a place to have, such a place tolose! Neeld heard Mrs Iver sighing in her good-natured motherlyfashion. But still Harry was not mentioned. 

"And if they had a business man--with his head on his shoulders--tomanage the estate, it'd be worth half as much again. " This time it wasIver who sighed; the idea of anything not having all the money made outof it that could be made offended his instincts. 

"She'll have a husband, dear, " his wife reminded him. 

"I wonder if Bob'll get there before we do, " said Janie, with the air ofstarting a subject of real interest in lieu of continuing idle talk. 

The evening was hot and the hall-door of Blent stood open. Cecily wassitting in the hall, and came out to greet them. She seemed to Neeld tocomplete the picture as she stood there in her young fairness, graciously welcoming her guests. She was pale, but wore a gay air anddid the honors with natural dignity. No sign of strangeness to theplace, and no embarrassment, were visible. 

"Oh, my dear, how you remind me of Lady Tristram!" good Mrs Iver brokeout. 

Neeld pressed the girl's hand with a grip that she noticed; she lookedat him in a sort of question and for a moment flushed a little. 

"It's very kind of you to come, " she said to him softly. 

"How are you, Mr Neeld?" The Imp had suddenly darted out from somewhereand was offering her hand. "I'm staying here, you know. " And in awhisper she added, "That young man of Janie's has been here a quarter ofan hour, and Cecily wasn't dressed, and I've had to talk to him. Oh, dear!" She had her hand on his arm and drew him apart. "Any news ofHarry Tristram?" she whispered. 

"Er--no--none. "

Her quick eyes looked at him in suspicion; he had hesitated a little. 

"You've seen him?" she asked. 

"Just casually, Madame Zabriska. "

She turned away with a peevish little pout. "Then you're not veryinteresting, " she seemed to say. But Neeld forgave her: she had askedhim about Harry. He could forgive more easily because he had deludedher. 

Addie Tristram's picture was at one end of the dining-room now, andCecily's place was under it. 

"My first dinner-party! Although it's a small one, " she said to Iver asshe sat down. 

"Your first at Blent?"

"The first anywhere--actually!" she laughed, and then grew thoughtfulfor a moment, glancing out into the dark and listening to the flap of abat's wing against the window. 

"You'll have plenty now, " said he, as he watched her admiringly. Heforgot, man that he was, that girls do not find permanent happiness indinner-parties. 

It was evident that Neeld ought never to have come to Blent thatevening. For the talk was of futures, and, out of deference to the younghostess, even more of hers than of the engaged couple's. Theirs indeedwas not provocative of discussion; if satisfactory, it was also obvious. Cecily's opened more topics, and she herself was willing and seemed eveneager to discuss it. She fell in with Mrs Iver's suggestion that sheought to be a centre of good works in the district, and in pursuance ofthis idea should accept the position of Patron to Miss Swinkerton'scomplicated scheme of benevolence. She agreed with Iver that the affairsof the estate probably wanted overhauling, and that a capable man shouldbe engaged for the task, even at some expense. She professed herselfready to cooperate with Bob in protecting the fishing of the Blent. Shewas, in a word, very much the proprietor. It was difficult for Neeld tosit and hear all this. And opposite to him sat Mina Zabriska, rathersilent and demure, but losing no chance of reminding him by a stealthyglance that this ordinary talk covered a remarkable situation--as indeedit did, but not of the precise nature that Mina supposed. Neeld felt asthough he were behind the scenes of fate's theatre, and he did not findthe place comfortable. He saw the next tableau in preparation and had toask himself what its effect would be on an unsuspecting audience. Hecame to the conclusion that foreknowledge was an attribute not likely tomake human beings happy; it could not easily make terms with sympathy. 

When dessert was on the table, Iver, true to his habits and traditions, felt that it was the occasion for a few friendly informal words; thebirthday and the majority of young Lady Tristram demanded so muchrecognition. Admirably concise and simple in ordinary conversation, hebecame, like so many of his countrymen, rather heavy and pompous when hegot on his legs. Yet he made what everybody except Mina Zabriskaconsidered a very appropriate little speech. Gainsborough grew quiteenthusiastic over it; and Neeld thought it was wonderfully good (if ithad not happened, of course, to be by force of circumstances anabsurdity from beginning to end). Cecily was content to say, "Thankyou, " but her father could not refuse himself the privilege of reply;the reply was on her behalf, but it was mainly about himself--also a notuncommon characteristic of after-dinner oratory. However he agreed withIver that everything was for the best, and that they were entitled tocongratulate their hostess and themselves on things at large. ThenNeeld had a turn over the engagement (a subject dull but safe!) and theproceedings were stopped only by Bob Broadley's headlong flight when thequestion of his response arose. 

"Thank goodness, that's over!" said Mina snappishly, as she stepped outinto the garden, followed by Mr Neeld. The rest went off to see thetreasures of the Long Gallery. Mina turned to him with a quick question:"You saw Mr Tristram, how is he?"

"Harry Tristram is quite well and in very good spirits. I never saw aman better in my life. "

Mina was silent for a moment. Then she broke out: "I call it disgusting. He's in good spirits, and she's in good spirits, and--and there's an endof it, I suppose! The next thing will be----"

"It's not the end if there's a next thing, " Neeld suggested timidly. 

"Oh, don't be tiresome. The next thing'll be some stupid girl for himand some idiot of a man for her. How I wish I'd never come to Merrion!"

"Don't despair; things may turn out better than you think. "

"They can't, " she declared fretfully. "I shall go away. "

"What a pity! Miss Gainsborough--Lady Tristram, I mean--will miss you somuch. "

"Let her!" said the Imp ungraciously. "I've put myself out enough aboutthe Tristrams. "

Neeld forbore to remind her of the entirely voluntary nature of hersacrifices; after all he was not the man to throw stones on thataccount. 

"Wait a few days anyhow, " he urged her. In a few days something musthappen. 

"A few days? Oh, yes!" As a matter of fact she meant to stay all thewinter. "She's started, " she went on, with an irritated jerk of her headtoward the Long Gallery, "putting all the things in different placesand rearranging everything. "

"I should imagine that Mr Gainsborough's enjoying himself then?"

"She doesn't let him touch a thing, " replied Mina with a fleeting smile. "He just stands about with a duster. That contents him well enough, though. Oh, yes, I shall go. The Broadleys won't care about me, andCecily won't want me long. "

Neeld could give real comfort only at the price of indiscretion. Moreover he was not at all sure that a disclosure of the truth wouldbring any comfort, for Mina wanted to be on both sides and to harmonizedevotion to Cecily with zeal for Harry. Neeld did not quite see how thiswas to be done, since it was understood that as Harry would take nothingfrom Cecily, so Cecily would refuse anything from Harry. 

"We must wait and see how it all turns out, " said he. 

"I hate people who say that, " grumbled Mina disconsolately. "And I dothink that the Ivers have grown extraordinarily stupid--caught it fromBob Broadley, I suppose. "

When injustice springs not from judgment but from temper, it is notworth arguing against. Neeld held his tongue and they sat silent on theseat by the river, looking across to Merrion and hearing the voices oftheir friends through the open windows of the Long Gallery. 

Presently there came to them through the stillness of the night thesound of wheels, not on the Blentmouth side, but up the valley, on theMingham and Fillingford road. The sound ceased without the appearance ofany vehicle, but it had reminded Neeld of the progress of time. 

"It must be getting late, " he said, rising. "I'll go and see if theythink of starting home. Did you hear wheels on the road--toward thePool?"

"Bob Broadley's cart coming for him, I suppose. "

"No, I don't think so. He's going back to Fairholme with us. I heard himsay so. "

Mina was languidly indifferent, and Mr Neeld trotted off into the house. Mina sat on, frowning at the idea that in a few minutes she would haveto go in and say good-by; for the voices came no more from the LongGallery and she heard the guests laughing and chattering in the hall, asthey prepared for departure. Suddenly she discerned the figure of a mancoming into sight across the river. He walked slowly, as it seemedstealthily, till he came to the end of the footbridge. Then he haltedand looked up at the house. It was gayly lighted. After waiting a momentthe man turned back and disappeared up the road in the direction ofMingham. Mina rose and strolled to the bridge. She crossed it and lookedup the road. She could make out dimly the stranger's retreating form. 

She heard Cecily calling to her, and ran back to the house. A wonderfulidea had come into her head, born of a vaguely familiar aspect that thebearing of the man had for her. But she laughed at it, telling herselfthat it was all nonsense; and as she joined in the talk and farewells itgrew faint and was almost forgotten. Yet she whispered to old Neeld witha laugh:

"I saw a man on the road just now who looked rather like Harry. Icouldn't see him properly, you know. "

Neeld started and looked at her with obvious excitement. She repaid hisstare with one of equal intensity. 

"Why, you don't think----?" she began in amazement. 

"Come, Neeld, we're waiting for you, " cried Iver from the wagonette, while Bob in irrepressible spirits burst into song as he gathered up thereins. He had deposed the coachman and had Janie with him on the box. 

They drove off, waving their hands and shouting good-night. Mina ran alittle way after them and saw Neeld turning his head this way and that, as though he thought there might be something to see. When she returnedshe found Gainsborough saying good-night to his daughter; at the samemoment the lights in the Long Gallery were put out. Cecily slipped herarm through hers and they walked out again into the garden. After threeor four minutes the wagonette, having made the circuit necessary toreach the carriage-bridge, drove by on the road across the river, withmore waving of hands and shouts of good-night. An absolute stillnesscame as the noise of its wheels died away. 

"I've got through that all right, " said Cecily with a laugh, drawing herfriend with her toward the bridge. "I suppose I shall be quiteaccustomed to it soon. "

They went on to the bridge and halted in the middle of it, by a commonimpulse as it seemed. 

"The sound of a river always says to me that it all doesn't mattermuch, " Cecily went on, leaning on the parapet. "I believe that's beenexpressed more poetically!"

"It's great nonsense, however it's expressed, " observed Mina scornfully. 

"I sometimes feel as if it was true. " Probably Cecily thought thatnobody--no girl--no girl in love--had ever had the feeling before. Adelusive appearance of novelty is one of the most dangerous weapons ofCupid. But Mina was an experienced woman--had been married too!

"Don't talk stuff, my dear, " she cried crossly. "And why are we standingon this horrid little bridge?"

She turned round; Cecily still gazed in melancholy abstraction into thestream. Cecily, then, faced down the valley, Mina looked up it; and atthe moment the moon showed a quarter of her face and illuminated astreak of the Fillingford road. 

The man was there. He was there again. The moonlight fell on his face. He smiled at Mina, pointed a hand toward Blentmouth, and smiled again. He seemed to mock the ignorance of the vanished wagonette. Mina made nosign. He laid his finger on his lips, and nodded slightly toward Cecily. The clouds covered the moon again, and there was no more on theFillingford road than a black blotch on the deep gray of the night; eventhis vanished a moment after. And still Cecily gazed down into theBlent. 

Presently she turned round. "I suppose we must go in, " she saidgrudgingly. "It's getting rather chilly. " They were both in low-cutfrocks, and had come out without any wraps. With the intuition of a bornschemer Mina seized on the chance. 

"Oh, it's so lovely!" she cried, with an apparently overwhelmingenthusiasm for nature. "Too perfectly lovely! I'll run in and get somecloaks. Wait here till I come back, Cecily. "

"Well, don't be long, " said Cecily, crossing her bare arms with a littleshiver. 

Off the Imp ran, and vanished into the house. But she made no search forwraps. After a moment's hesitation in the hall, the deceitful creatureran into the library. All was dark there; a window was open and showedthe bridge, with Cecily's figure on it making a white blur in thedarkness. Mina crouched on the window-sill and waited. The absoluteunpardonableness of her conduct occurred to her; with a smile shedismissed the consideration. He--and she--who desires the end must needsput up with the means; it is all the easier when the means happen to beuncommonly thrilling. 

Harry was humbled! That was the conclusion which shot through her mind. What else could his coming mean? If it meant less than that, it was merecruelty. If it meant that---- A keen pang of disappointment shot throughher. It was the only way to what she desired, but it was not the waywhich she would have preferred him to tread. Yet because it was the onlyway, she wished it--with the reservation that it would have been muchbetter if it could have happened in some other fashion. But anyhow theposition, not to say her position, had every element of excitement. "Poor old Mr Neeld!" she murmured once. It was hard on him to miss this. At the moment Neeld was smiling over the ignorance in which he had beenbound to keep her. It is never safe to suppose, however pleasant it maybe to believe, that nobody is pitying us; either of his knowledge or ofhis ignorance someone is always at it. 

She started violently and turned round. The butler was there, candle inhand. 

"Is her Ladyship still out, ma'am?" he asked, advancing. "I was going tolock up. " He was hardly surprised to find her--they knew she wasodd--and would not have shown it, if he had been. 

"Oh, go to bed, " she cried in a low voice. "We'll lock up. We don't wantanything, anything at all. "

"Very good. Good-night, ma'am. "

What an escape! Suppose Cecily had seen her at the window!

But Cecily was not looking at the window. She moved to the far end ofthe bridge and stood gazing up toward Merrion, where one light twinkledin an upper room. Mina saw her stretch out her arms for a moment towardthe sky. What had happened? It was impossible that he had gone away!Mina craned her head out of the window, looking and listening. Happenwhat might, be the end of it what it might, this situation wasdeliciously strong of the Tristrams. They were redeeming theircharacters; they had not settled down into the ordinary or been gulfedin the slough of the commonplace. Unexpected appearances and midnightinterviews of sentimental moment were still to be hoped for from them. There was not yet an end of all. 

He came; Mina saw his figure on the road, at first dimly, then with asudden distinctness as a gleam of moonlight shone out. He stood a littleway up the road to Cecily's right. She did not see him yet, for shelooked up to Merrion. He took a step forward, his tread sounding loud onthe road. There was a sudden turn of Cecily's head. A moment's silencefollowed. He came up to her, holding out his hand. She drew back, shrinking from it. Laying her hands on the gate of the bridge, sheseemed to set it as a fence between them. Her voice reached Mina's ears, low, yet as distinct as though she had been by her side, and full of aterrified alarm and a bitter reproach. 

"You here! Oh, you promised, you promised!"

With a bound Mina's conscience awoke. She had heard what no ears savehis had any right to hear. What if she were found? The conscience wasnot above asking that, but it was not below feeling an intolerable shameeven without the discovery that it suggested as her punishment. Blushingred there in the dark, she slipped from the window-seat and groped herway to a chair. Here she flung herself down with a sob of excitement andemotion. He had promised. And the promise was broken in his coming. 

Now she heard their steps on the path outside; they were walking towardthe house. Telling herself that it was impossible for her to move now, for fear she should encounter them, she sank lower in her arm-chair. 

"Well, where shall we go?" she heard Cecily ask in cold, stiff tones. 

"To the Long Gallery, " said Harry. 

The next moment old Mason the butler was in the room again, this time ingreat excitement. 

"There's someone in the garden with her Ladyship, ma'am, " he cried. "Ithink--I think it's my Lord!"

"Who?" asked Mina, sitting up, feigning to be calm and sleepy. 

"Mr Harry, I mean, ma'am. "

"Oh! Well then, go and see. "

The old man turned and went out into the hall. 

"How are you, Mason?" she heard Harry say. "Her Ladyship and I have somebusiness to talk about. May I have a sandwich afterward?"

There he was, spoiling the drama, in Mina's humble opinion! Who shouldthink of sandwiches now?

"Do what Mr Tristram says, Mason, " said Cecily. 

She heard them begin to mount the stairs. Jumping up, she ran softly tothe door and out into the hall. Mason stood there with his candle, staring up after Cecily and Harry. He turned to Mina with a quizzicalsmile wrinkling his good-natured face. 

"You'd think it a funny time for business, wouldn't you, ma'am?" heasked. He paused a moment, stroking his chin. "Unless you'd happened tobe in service twenty years with her late Ladyship. Well, I'm glad to seehim again, anyhow. "

"What shall we do?" whispered Mina. "Are you going to bed, Mason?"

"Not me, ma'am. Why, I don't know what mayn't happen before themorning!" He shook his head in humorous commentary on those he hadserved. "But there's no call for you to sit up, ma'am. "

"I'll thank you to mind your own business, Mason, " said the Impindignantly. "It would be most--most improper if I didn't sit up. Why, it's nearly midnight!"

"They won't think of that up there, " said he. 

The sound of a door slammed came from upstairs. Mina's eyes met Mason'sfor a moment by an involuntary impulse, then hastily turned away. It isan excellent thing to be out of the reach of temptation. The door wasshut!

"Give me a candle here in the library, " said Mina with all her dignity. And there, in the library, she sat down to wonder and to wait. 

Mason went off after the sandwiches, smiling still. There was reallynothing odd in it, when once you were accustomed to the family ways. 

XXVII

BEFORE TRANSLATION

Harry Tristram had come back to Blent in the mood which belonged to theplace as of old--the mood that claimed as his right what had become hisby love, knew no scruples if only he could gain and keep it, was readyto play a bold game and take a great chance. He did not argue about whathe was going to do. He did not justify it, and perhaps could not. Yet tohim what he purposed was so clearly the best thing that Cecily must beforced into it. She could not be forced by force; if he told her thetruth, he would meet at the outset a resistance which he could notquell. He might encounter that after all, later on, in spite of apresent success. That was the great risk he was determined to run. Atthe worst there would be something gained; if she were and would benothing else, she should and must at least be mistress of Blent. Hisimagination had set her in that place; his pride, no less than his love, demanded it for her. He had gone away once that she might have it. Ifneed be, again he would go away. That stood for decision later. 

She walked slowly to the end of the Long Gallery and sat down in thegreat arm-chair; it held its old position in spite of the changes whichHarry noted with quick eyes and a suppressed smile as he followed herand set his candle on a table near. He lit two more from it and thenturned to her. She was pale and defiant. 

"Well, " she said, "why are you here?"

She asked and he gave no excuse for the untimely hour of his visit andno explanation of it. It seemed a small, perhaps indeed a natural, thingto both of them. 

"I'm here because I couldn't keep away, " he answered gravely, standingbefore her. 

"You promised to keep away. Can't you keep promises?"

"No, not such promises as that. "

"And so you make my life impossible! You see this room, you see how I'vechanged it? I've been changing everything I could. Why? To forget you, to blot you out, to be rid of you. I've been bringing myself to take myplace. To-night I seemed at last to be winning my way to it. Now youcome. You gave me all this; why do you make it impossible to me?" Abright color came on her cheeks now as she grew vehement in herreproaches, and her voice was intense, though low. 

A luxury of joy swept over him as he listened. Every taunt witnessed tohis power, every reproach to her love. He played a trick indeed and apart, but there was no trick and no acting in so far as he was herlover. If that truth could not redeem his deception, it stifled allsense of guilt. 

"And you were forgetting? You were getting rid of me?" he asked, smilingand fixing his eyes on her. 

"Perhaps. And now----!" She made a gesture of despair. "Tell me--whyhave you come?" Her tone changed to entreaty. 

"I've come because I must be where you are, because I was mad to sendyou away before, mad not to come to you before, to think I could livewithout you, not to see that we two must be together; because you'reeverything to me. " He had come nearer to her now and stood by her. "Eversince I went away I have seen you in this room, in that chair. I thinkit was your ghost only that came to town. " He laughed a moment. "Iwouldn't have the ghost. I didn't know why. Now I know. I wanted the youthat was here--the real you--as you had been on the night I went away. So I've come back to you. We're ourselves here, Cecily. We Tristrams areourselves at Blent. "

She had listened silently, her eyes on his. She seemed bewildered by thesudden rush of his passion and the enraptured eagerness of his wordsthat made her own vehemence sound to her poor and thin. Pride had itsshare in her protest, love was the sole spring of his intensity. Yet shewas puzzled by the victorious light in his eyes. What he said, what hecame to do, was such a surrender as she had never hoped from him; and hewas triumphant in surrendering!

The thought flashed through her mind, troubling her and for the timehindering her joy in his confession. She did not trust him yet. 

"I've had an offer made to me, " he resumed, regaining his composure. "Asort of political post. If I accept it I shall have to leave England fora considerable time, almost immediately. That brought the thing to apoint. " Again he laughed. "It's important to you too; because if you sayno to me to-night, you'll be rid of me for ever so long. Your life won'tbe made impossible. I shouldn't come to Blent again. "

"A post that would take you away?" she murmured. 

"Yes. You'd be left here in peace. I've not come to blackmail you intoloving me, Cecily. Yes, you shall be left in peace to move the furnitureabout. " Glancing toward the table, he saw Mr Gainsborough's birthdaygift. He took it up, looked at it for a moment, and then replaced it. His manner was involuntarily expressive. Even if she brought that sortof thing to Blent----! He turned back at the sound of a little laughfrom Cecily and found her eyes sparkling. 

"Father's birthday present, Harry, " said she. 

Delighted with her mirth, he came to her, holding out his hands. Sheshook her head and leant back, looking at him. 

"Sit as my mother did. You know. Yes, like that!" he cried. 

She had obeyed him with a smile. Not to be denied now, he seized thehand that lay in her lap. 

"A birthday! Yes, of course, you're twenty-one! Really mistress of itall now! And you don't know what to do with it, except spoil thearrangement of the furniture?"

She laughed low and luxuriously. "What am I to do with it?" she asked. 

"Well, won't you give it all to me?" As he spoke he laughed and kissedher hand. "I've come to ask you for it. Here I am. I've comefortune-hunting to-night. "

"It's all mine now, you say? Harry, take it without me. "

"If I did, I'd burn it to the ground that it mightn't remind me of you. "

"Yes, yes! That's what I've wanted to do!" she exclaimed, drawing herhand out of his and raising her arms a moment in the air. AddieTristram's pose was gone, but Harry did not miss it now. 

"Take it without you indeed! It's all for you and because of you. "

"Really, really?" She grew grave. "Harry, dear, for pity's sake tell meif you love me!"

"Haven't I told you?" he cried gayly. "Where are the poets? Oh, for somegood quotations! I'm infernally unpoetical, I know. Is this it--thatyou're always before my eyes, always in my head, that you're terriblyin the way, that when I've got anything worth thinking I think it toyou, anything worth doing I do it for you, anything good to say I say itto you? Is this it, that I curse myself and curse you? Is this it, thatI know myself only as your lover and that if I'm not that, then I seemnothing at all? I've never been in love before, but all that soundsrather like it. "

"And you'll take Blent from me?"

"Yes, as the climax of all, I'll take Blent from you. "

To her it seemed the climax, the thing she found hardest to believe, thebest evidence for the truth of those extravagant words which sounded sosweet in her ears. Harry saw this, but he held on his way. Nay, now hehimself forgot his trick, and could still have gone on had there beennone, had he in truth been accepting Blent from her hands. Even at theprice of pride he would have had her now. 

She rose suddenly, and began to walk to and fro across the end of theroom, while he stood by the table watching her. 

"Well, isn't it time you said something to me?" he suggested with asmile. 

"Give me time, Harry, give me time. The world's all changed to-night. You--yes, you came suddenly out of the darkness of the night"--she wavedher hand toward the window--"and changed the world for me. How am I tobelieve it? And if I can believe it, what can I say? Let me alone for aminute, Harry dear. "

He was well content to wait and watch. All time seemed before them, andhow better could he fill it? He seemed himself to suffer in this hour ajoyful transformation; to know better why men lived and loved to live, to reach out to the full strength and the full function of his being. The world changed for him as he changed it for her. 

Twice and thrice she had paced the gallery before she came and stoodopposite to him. She put her hands up to her throat, saying, "I'mstifled--stifled with happiness, Harry. "

For answer he sprang forward and caught her in his arms. In the movementhe brushed roughly against the table; there was a little crash, and poorMr Gainsborough's birthday gift lay smashed to bits on the floor. Forthe second time their love bore hard on Mr Gainsborough's crockery. Startled they turned to look, and then they both broke into merrylaughter. The trumpery thing had seemed a sign to them, and now the signwas broken. Their first kiss was mirthful over its destruction. 

With a sigh of joy she disengaged herself from him. 

"That's settled then, " said Harry. He paused a moment. "You had Janieand Bob Broadley here to-night? I saw them as I lay hidden by the road. Does that kind of engagement attract you, Cecily?"

"Ours won't be like that, " she said, laughing triumphantly. 

"Don't let's have one at all, " he suggested, coming near to her again. "Let's have no engagement. Just a wedding. "

"What?" she cried. 

"It must be a beastly time, " he went on, "and all the talk there's beenabout us will make it more beastly still. Fancy Miss S. And all the restof them! And--do you particularly want to wait? What I want is to besettled down, here with you. "

Her eyes sparkled as she listened; she was in the mood, she was of thestuff, for any adventure. 

"I should like to run off with you now, " said he. "I don't want to leaveyou at all, you see. "

"Run off now?" She gave a joyful little laugh. "That's just what Ishould like!"

"Then we'll do it, " he declared. "Well, to-morrow morning anyhow. "

"Do you mean it?" she asked. 

"Do you say no to it?"

She drew herself up with pride. "I say no to nothing that you ask ofme. "

Their hands met again as she declared her love and trust. "You've reallycome to me?" he heard her murmur. "Back to Blent and back to me?"

"Yes, " he answered, smiling. She had brought into his mind again thetruth she did not know. He had no time to think of it, for she offeredhim her lips again. The moment when he might have told her thus went by. It was but an impulse; for he still loved what he was doing, and tookdelight in the risks of it. And he could not bear so to impair her joy. Soon she must know, but she should not yet be robbed of her joy that itwas she who could bring him back to Blent. For him in his knowledge, forher in her ignorance, there was an added richness of pleasure that hewould not throw away, even although now he believed that were the truthknown she would come to him still. Must not that be, since now he, evenhe, would come to her, though the truth had been otherwise?

"There's a train from Fillingford at eight in the morning. I'm goingback there to-night. I've got a fly waiting by the Pool--if the manhasn't gone to sleep and the horse run away. Will you meet me there?We'll go up to town and be married as soon as we can--the day afterto-morrow, I suppose. "

"And then----?"

"Oh, then just come back here. We can go nowhere but here, Cecily. "

"Just come back and----?"

"And let them find it out, and talk, and talk, and talk!" he laughed. 

"It would be delightful!" she cried. 

"Nobody to know till it's done!"

"Yes, yes, I like it like that. Not father even, though?"

"You'll be gone before he's up. Leave a line for him. "

"But I--I can't go alone with you. "

"Why not?" asked Harry, seeming a trifle vexed. 

"I'll tell you!" she cried. "Let's take Mina with us, Harry!"

He laughed; the Imp was the one person whose presence he was ready toendure. Indeed there would perhaps be a piquancy in that. 

"All right. An elopement made respectable by Mina!" He had a touch ofscorn even for mitigated respectability. 

"Shall we call her and tell her now?"

"Well, are you tired of this interview?"

"I don't know whether I want it to go on, or whether I must go and tellsomebody about it. "

"I shouldn't hesitate, " smiled Harry. 

"You? No. But I--Oh, Harry dear, I want to whisper my triumph. "

"But we must be calm and business-like about it now. "

"Yes!" She entered eagerly into the fun. "That'll puzzle Mina evenmore. "

"We're not doing anything unusual, " he insisted with affected gravity. 

"No--not for our family at least. "

"It's just the obvious thing to do. "

"Oh, it's just the delicious thing too!" She almost danced in gayety. "Let me call Mina. Do!"

"Not for a moment, as you love me! Give me a moment more. "

"Oh, Harry, there'll be no end to that!"

"I don't know why there should be. "

"We should miss the train at Fillingford!"

"Ah, if it means that!"

"Or I shall come sleepy and ugly to it; and you'd leave me on theplatform and go away!"

"Shout for Mina--now--without another word!"

"Oh, just one more, " she pleaded, laughing. 

"I can't promise to be moderate. "

"Come, we'll go and find her. Give me your hand. " She caught his hand inhers, and snatched the candle from the table. She held it high above herhead, looking round the room and back to his eyes again. "My home now, because my love is here, " she said. "Mine and yours, and yours andmine--and both the same thing, Harry, now. "

He listened smiling. Yes, it would be the same thing now. 

There they stood together for a moment, and together they sighed as theyturned away. To them the room was sacred now, as it had always beenbeautiful; in it their love seemed to lie enshrined. 

They went downstairs together full of merriment, the surface expressionof their joy. "Look grave, " he whispered, setting his face in a comicalexaggeration of seriousness. Cecily tried to obey and tumbled into agurgle of delight. 

"I will directly, " she gasped as they came to the hall. Mason stoodthere waiting. 

"I've put the sandwiches here, and the old brown, my Lord. "

Harry alone noticed the slip in his address--and Harry took no notice ofit. 

"I shall be glad to meet the old brown again, " he said, smiling. Masongave the pair a benevolent glance and withdrew to his quarters. 

Mina strolled out of the library with an accidental air. Harry had satdown to his sandwiches and old brown. Cecily ran across to Mina andkissed her. 

"We're going to be married!" she whispered. She had told it all in asentence; yet she added; "Oh, I've such a heap of things to tell you, Mina!" Was not all that scene in the Long Gallery to bereproduced--doubtless only in a faint adumbration of its real glory, yetwith a sense of recovering it and living it again?

"No?" cried Mina. "Oh, how splendid! Soon?"

Harry threw a quick glance at Cecily. She responded by assuming a demurecalmness of demeanor. 

"Not as soon as we could wish, " said Harry, munching and sipping. "Infact, not before the day after to-morrow, I'm afraid, Madame Zabriska. "

"The day after----?"

"What I have always hated is Government interference. Why can't I bemarried when I like? Why have I to get a license and all that nonsense?Why must I wait till the day after to-morrow?" He grew indignant. 

"It's past twelve now; it is to-morrow, " said Cecily. 

"Quite so. As you suggest, Cecily, we could be married to-day but forthese absurd restrictions. There's a train at eight fromFillingford----"

"You're going--both of you--by that?" Mina cried. 

"I hope it suits you, because we want you to come with us, if you'll beso kind, " said Harry. 

"You see it would look just a little unusual if we went alone, " addedCecily. 

"And it's not going to look unusual anyhow? Are you mad? Or--or do youmean it?"

"Don't you think both may be true?" asked Harry. Cecily's gravity brokedown. She kissed Mina again, laughing in an abandonment of exultation. 

"Oh, you're both mad!"

"Not at all. You're judging us by the standard of your other engagedcouple to-night. "

"Did Mr Neeld know anything about your coming?" Mina demanded, with asudden recollection. 

"Nothing at all. Did he say anything to you?" For a moment the glass ofold brown halted on its way to his lips, and he glanced at Mina sharply. 

"No. But when I asked him if he had seen you he looked--well, justrather funny. "

The old brown resumed its progress. Harry was content. 

"There's no better meal than fresh sandwiches and old brown, " heobserved. "You'll come with us, won't you, and keep Cecily company atthe little house till we fix it up?"

Mina looked from one to the other in new amazement, with all her oldexcited pleasure in the Tristram ways. They did a thing--and they didnot spoil it by explanations. 

"And Mr Gainsborough?" she asked. 

"We're going to leave a note for father, " smiled Cecily. 

"You're always doing that, " objected Mina. 

"It seems rather an early train for Mr Gainsborough, " Harry suggested, laying down his napkin. 

"Oh, why don't you tell me something about it?" cried Mina despairingly. "But it's true? The great thing's true anyhow, isn't it?"

"Well, what do you think I came down from town for?" inquired Harry. 

"And why have we been so long in the Gallery, Mina?"

"You've given in then?" exclaimed the Imp, pointing a finger in triumphat Harry. 

"Mina, how can you say a thing like that?"

"It looks as if it were true enough, " admitted Harry. "Really I mustgo, " he added. "I can't keep that fly all night. I shall see you in themorning, Madame Zabriska. Eight o'clock at Fillingford!"

"I'm really to go with you?" she gasped. 

"Yes, yes, I thought all that was settled, " said he, rather impatiently. "Bring a pretty frock. I want my wedding to be done handsomely--in astyle that suits the wedding of----" He looked at Cecily--"of LadyTristram of Blent. "

"Cecily, it's not all a joke?"

"Yes!" cried Cecily. "All a delicious delicious joke! But we're going tobe married. "

After a moment's hesitation Mina came across to Harry, holding out herhands. "I'm glad, I'm so glad, " she murmured, with a little catch in hervoice. 

He took her hands and pressed them; he looked at her very kindly, thoughhe smiled still. 

"Yes, it undoes all the mistakes, doesn't it?" he said. "At least I hopeit will, " he added the next moment with a laugh. 

"It's really the only way to be married, " declared Cecily. 

"Well, for you people--for you extraordinary Tristrams--I dare say itis, " said Mina. 

"You'll come?" Cecily implored. 

"She couldn't keep away, " mocked Harry. "She's got to see the end ofus. "

"Yes, and our new beginning. Oh, what Blent's going to be, Mina! If youdon't come with us now, we won't let you stay at Merrion. "

"I'm coming, " said Mina. Indeed she would not have stayed away. If shehad needed further inducement the next moment supplied it. 

"You're to be our only confidant, " said Harry. 

"Yes! Till it's all over, nobody's to know but you, Mina. "

The Imp was hit on her weak spot. She was tremulously eager to go. 

"Eight o'clock! Oh, can we be ready, Cecily?"

"Of course we shall be ready, " said Cecily scornfully. 

Harry had taken his hat from the table and came up to shake hands. Hewas imperturbably calm and business-like. 

"Don't run it too fine, " he said. "Good-night, Madame Zabriska. "

She gave him her hand and he held it for a moment. He grew a littlegrave, but there was still a twinkle in his eye. 

"You're a good friend, " he said. "I shall come on you again, if I wantyou, you know. " He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. 

"I don't know that I care much about anything except you two, " stammeredMina. 

He gripped her hand again. She seemed well paid. He held out his hand toCecily. Mina understood. 

"I shall be up a little while, Cecily. Come to me before you go to bed, "she said; and she stood in the hall, watching them as they walked outtogether. There was joy in her heart--ay, and envy. The two broughttears to her eyes and struggled which should make the better claim tothem. "But they do like me!" she said in a plaintive yet glad littlecry, as she was left alone in the silent old hall. 

So still was the night that a man might hear the voice of his heart anda girl the throb of hers. And they were alone; or only the friendlymurmur of old Blent was with them, seeming to whisper congratulationson their joy. Her arm was through his, very white on his sleeve, and sheleant on him heavily. 

"After tempests, dear, " said he. 

"There shall be no more, no more, Harry. "

"Oh, I don't know that. I shall like you in them perhaps. And there maybe one more, anyhow. "

"You're laughing, Harry?"

"Why, yes, at anything just now. "

"Yes, at anything, " she murmured. "I could laugh--or cry--at anythingjust now. "

They came to the little bridge and passed on to it. 

"We talked here the first evening, " said she. "And how you puzzled me!It began for me then, dear Harry. "

"Yes, and for me a little sooner--by the Pool for me. I was keeping youout of your own then. "

"Never mine unless it could be yours too. "

Fallen into silence again, they reached the road and, moved by the sameinstinct, turned to look back at Blent. The grip of her hand tightenedon his arm. 

"There's nothing that would make you leave me?" she whispered. 

"Not you yourself, I think, " said he. 

"It's very wonderful, " she breathed. "Listen! There's no sound. Yes, after tempests, Harry!"

"I am glad of it all, " he said suddenly and in a louder tone. "I've beenmade a man, and I've found you, the woman for me. It was hard at thetime, but I am glad of it. It has come and it has gone, and I'm glad ofit. "

He had spoken unwarily in saying it was gone. But she thought he spokeof his struggle only and his hesitation, not of their cause. 

"You gave when you might have kept; it is always yours, Harry. Oh, andwhat is it all now? No, no, it's something still. It's in us--in usboth, I think. "

He stopped on the road. 

"Come no farther. The fly's only a little way on, and while I see you, Iwill see nobody else to-night. Till the morning, dearest--and you won'tfail?"

"No, I won't fail. Should I fail to greet my first morning?"

He pushed the hair a little back from her forehead and kissed her brow. 

"God do so unto me and more also if my love ever fails you, " said he. "Kiss me as I kissed you. And so good-night. "

She obeyed and let him go. Once and twice he looked back at her as hetook his way and she stood still on the road. She heard his voicespeaking to the flyman, the flyman's exhortation to his horse, thesounds of the wheels receding along the road. Then slowly she went back. 

"This is what they mean, " she murmured to herself. "This is what theymean. " It was the joy past expression, the contentment pastunderstanding. And all in one evening they had sprung up for her out ofa barren thirsty land. Blent had never been beautiful before nor theriver sparkled as it ran; youth was not known before, and beauty hadbeen thrown away. The world was changed; and it was very wonderful. 

When Cecily went into her the Imp was packing; with critical care shestowed her smartest frock in the trunk. 

"I must be up early and see about the carriage, " she remarked. "I daresay Mason----. But you're not listening, Cecily!"

"No, I wasn't listening, " said Cecily, scorning apology or excuse. 

"You people in love are very silly. That's the plain English of it, "observed Mina loftily. 

Cecily looked at her a minute, then stretched her arms and sighed inluxurious weariness. "I dare say that's the plain English of it, " sheadmitted. "But, oh, how different it sounds before translation, dear!"

XXVIII

THE CAT AND THE BELL

Mr Gainsborough lost his head. He might have endured the note that hadbeen left for him--it said only that his daughter had gone to town for acouple of days with Mina Zabriska; besides he had had notes left for himbefore. But there was Mason's account of the evening and of themorning--of Harry's arrival, of the conference in the Long Gallery, ofthe sandwiches and the old brown, of the departure of the ladies atseven o'clock. Mason was convinced that something was up; knowing MrHarry as he did, and her late Ladyship as he had, he really would notlike to hazard an opinion what; Mr Gainsborough, however, could see forhimself that candles had been left to burn themselves out and that chinahad been broken in the Long Gallery. Availing himself dexterously of hissubordinate position, Mason was open to state facts but respectfullydeclined to draw inferences. Gainsborough rushed off to the LongGallery. There lay his bit of Chelsea on the floor--upset, smashed, notpicked up! There must have been a convulsion indeed, he declared, asruefully and tenderly he gathered the fragments. 

Quite off his balance and forgetful of perils, he ordered thepony-chaise and had himself driven into Blentmouth. He felt that he musttell somebody, and borrow some conclusions--he was not equal to makingany of his own. He must carry the news. 

He deceived himself and did gross injustice to the neighborhood. Fillingford is but twelve miles inland from Blentmouth, and there arethree hours between eight and eleven. He was making for Fairholme. Whileyet half a mile off he overtook Miss Swinkerton, heading in the samedirection, ostentatiously laden with savings-bank books. With muchdecision she requested a lift, got in, and told him all about how Harryhad escorted Cecily and Madame Zabriska from Fillingford that morning. The milkman had told the butcher, the butcher had told the postman, thepostman had told her, and--well, she had mentioned it to Mrs Trumbler. Mrs Trumbler was at Fairholme now. 

"Mr Tristram had been staying with you, of course? How nice to thinkthere's no feeling of soreness!" observed Miss S. 

In Gainsborough at least there was no feeling save of bewilderment. 

"Staying with us? No, I haven't so much as seen him, " he stammered out. 

Immediately Miss S. Was upon him, and by the time they reached Fairholmehad left him with no more than a few rags of untold details. Then withunrivalled effrontery she declared that she had forgotten to call at thegrocer's, and marched off. In an hour the new and complete version ofthe affair was all over the town. Mrs Trumbler had got first toFairholme, but she did not wrest the laurels from Miss S. 's brow. Themere departure from Fillingford shrank to nothing in comparison with theattendant circumstances supplied by Mr Gainsborough. 

"They don't know what to think at Fairholme, " Mrs Trumbler reported. 

"I dare say not, my dear, " said Miss S. Grimly. 

"They were dining there that very night, and not a word was said aboutit; and none of them saw Mr Tristram. He came quite suddenly, and wentoff again with Lady Tristram. "

"And Mina Zabriska, my dear. "

Mina complicated the case. Those who were inclined to believe, againstall common-sense, that Cecily had eloped with her cousin--Why, inheaven's name, elope, when you have all the power and a negligibleparent?--stumbled over Mina. Well then, was it with Mina Harry hadeloped? Miss S. Threw out hints in this direction. Why then Cecily? MissS. Was not at a loss. She said nothing, no; but if it should turn outthat Cecily's presence was secured as a protection against the wrath ofMajor Duplay (who, everybody knew, hated Harry), she, Miss S. , would beless surprised than many of those who conceived themselves to knoweverything. A Cecily party and a Mina party grew up--and a third party, who would have none of either, and declared that they had their ownideas, and that time would show. 

Gossip raged, and old Mr Neeld sat in the middle of the conflagration. How his record of evasion, nay, of downright falsehood, mounted up!False facts and fictitious reasons flowed from his lips. There waspathos in the valor with which he maintained his position; he was hardpressed, but he did not fall. There was a joy too in the fight. For healone of all Blentmouth knew the great secret, and guessed that what washappening had to do with the secret. Harry had asked silence for a week;before two days of it were gone came this news. 

"If they do mean to be married, " said Janie, "why couldn't they do itdecently?" She meant with the respectable deliberation of her ownalliance. 

"Tristram's a queer fellow, " pondered Bob Broadley. 

"I only hope he isn't rushing her into it--on purpose. What do youthink, Mr Neeld?"

"My dear Janie----"

"He may not want to give her time to think. It's not a good match forher now, is it?"

"I--I can't think that Harry Tristram would----"

"Well, Neeld, " said Iver judicially, "I'm not so sure. Master Harry canplay a deep game when he likes. I know that very well--and to my costtoo. "

What Janie hinted and Iver did not discard was a view which found somesupporters; and where it was entertained, poor Mina Zabriska's characterwas gone. Miss S. Herself was all but caught by the idea, and went sofar as to say that she had never thought highly of Madame Zabriska, while the Major was known to be impecunious. There was a nefariousnessabout the new suggestion that proved very attractive in Blentmouth. 

Late in the day came fresh tidings, new fuel for the flames. MrGainsborough had driven again into Blentmouth and taken the train forLondon. Two portmanteaus and a wicker-crate, plausibly conjectured tocontain between them all his worldly possessions, had accompanied him onthe journey. He was leaving Blent then, if not for ever, at least for along while. He had evaded notice in his usual fashion, and nearly drivenover Miss S. When she tried to get in the way. Miss S. Was partlyconsoled by a bit of luck that followed. She met Mina's cook, come downfrom Merrion to buy household stores; her mistress was to return to herown house on the morrow! There seemed no need to search for inferences. They leapt to light. Either Blent was to be shut up, or it was toreceive a wedded pair. On this alternative the factions split, and thebattle was furious. Mrs Trumbler definitely fought Miss S. For the firsttime in her life. On one point only the whole town agreed; it was beingcheated--either out of the wedding which was its right, or else out ofthe ball in the winter to which Miss S. Had irrevocably committed LadyTristram. The popularity of Blent fell to nothing in the neighborhood. 

The next morning Mr Neeld gained the reward of virtue, and became a heroin spite of his discretion. At breakfast he received a telegram. Timeswere critical, and all eyes were on him as he read, and re-read, andfrowned perplexedly. Then he turned to Iver. 

"Can you let me have a trap this afternoon, Iver?"

"Of course, of course. But you're not going to leave us, I hope?"

"Only just for the evening; I--in fact I have to go to Blent. "

There was a moment's silence. Glances were exchanged, while Neeld madehalf-hearted efforts to grapple with an egg. Then Bob Broadley broke outwith a laugh, "Oh, hang it all, out with it, Mr Neeld!"

"Well, I'm not told to be silent; and it must become known immediately. Madame Zabriska telegraphs to me that they are to be married early thismorning, and will come to Blent by the 1. 30 train. She herself leaves bythe 11 o'clock, will be there at five, and wishes me to join her. "

"By Jove, he's done it then!" exclaimed Iver. 

Everybody looked very solemn except Neeld, who was sadly confused. 

"Dear, dear!" murmured Mrs Iver. 

"She must be very much in love with him, " remarked Janie. 

"It's his conduct more than hers which needs explanation, " Iver observeddryly. "And what do they want you for, Neeld?" If his tone and hisquestion were not very flattering, they were excused by the obvious factthat there was no sort of reason for wanting Mr Neeld--or at any rateseemed to all that party to be none. 

"Oh--er--why--why no doubt it's--it's only a fancy of Mina Zabriska's. "

"A very queer fancy, " said Janie Iver coldly. It was really a littleannoying that old Mr Neeld should be the person wanted at Blent. 

"I'll drive you over, " Bob kindly volunteered. 

"Er--thank you, Broadley, but she asks me to come alone. "

"Well, I'm hanged!" muttered Bob, who had seen a chance of being in atthe death. 

They were coming straight down to Blent. That fact assumed an importantplace in Neeld's review of the situation. And his presence wasrequested. He put these two things together. They must mean that thesecret was to be told that evening at Blent, and that he was to bevouched as evidence, if by chance Cecily asked for it. On the very dayof the wedding the truth was to be revealed. In ignorance, perhaps inher own despite, she had been made in reality what she had conceivedherself to be; to-day she was Lady Tristram in law. Now she was to betold. Neeld saw the choice that would be laid before her, and, at thesame time, the use that had been made of his silence. He fell into asore puzzle. Yes, Harry could play a deep game when he chose. 

"It's quite impossible to justify either the use he's made of me or theway he's treated her, " he concluded sadly. "I shall speak very seriouslyto him about it. " But he knew that the serious speaking, howevercomforting it might be to himself as a protest, would fall very lightlyon Harry Tristram's ears; their listening would be for the verdict ofanother voice. 

"Do you think Disney will repeat his offer--will give him a chance ofreconsidering now?" asked Iver, who had heard of that affair from LordSouthend. 

"I'm sure he wouldn't accept anything, " Neeld answered with remarkablepromptitude and conviction. It was a luxury to find an opportunity ofspeaking the truth. 

"The least he could do would be to leave that to her. "

"She'd say just the same, " Neeld assured him. "I'm convinced there'll beno question of anything of the kind. "

"Then it's very awkward, " Iver grumbled crossly. 

In all his varied experience of the Imp--which included, it may beremembered, a good deal of plain-speaking and one embrace--Neeld hadnever found her in such a state as governed her this evening. Mason gavehim tea while she walked restlessly about; he gathered that Mason wasdying to talk but had been sore wounded in an encounter with Minaalready, and was now perforce holding his tongue. 

"They'll be here by seven, and you and I are to dine with them, " shetold him. "Quite informally. "

"Dear me, I--I don't think I want----" he began. 

"Hush!" she interrupted. "Are you going to be all day with those things, Mason?"

"I hope I haven't been slower than usual, ma'am, " said Mason verystiffly. 

At last he went. In an instant Mina darted across to Neeld, and caughthim by the arm. "What have you to tell me?" she cried. 

"To tell you? I? Oh, dear, no, Madame Zabriska! I assure you----"

"Oh, there's no need for that! Harry said you were to tell me beforethey arrived; that's why I sent for you now. "

"He said I was to tell you----?"

"Yes, yes. Something you knew and I didn't; something that would explainit all. "

She stood before him with clasped hands. "It's quite true; he did sayso, " she pleaded. "It's all been so delightful, and yet so strange; andhe told me to be ready either to stay here or to go home to-night! Tellme, tell me, Mr Neeld!"

"Why didn't he tell you himself?"

"I only saw him alone for an instant after the wedding; and before it hedidn't say a word about there being anything to tell. There's a secret. What is it?"

He was glad to tell it. He had carried his burden long enough. 

"We've all made a great blunder. Harry is Lord Tristram after all. "

Mina stood silent for a moment. "Oh!" she gasped. "And he's marriedCecily without telling her?"

"That's what he has done, I regret to say. And I take it that he meansto tell her to-night. "

Mina sank into a chair. "What will she do?" she murmured. "What will shedo?"

"There was a mistake--or rather a fraud--about the date of Sir RandolphEdge's death; his brother knew it. I'll tell you the details if youlike. But that's the end and the sum of it. As to why he didn'ttell--er--his wife sooner, perhaps you know better than I. "

"Yes, I know that, " she said. And then--it was most inconsiderate, mostpainful to Mr Neeld--she began to cry. Unable to bear this climax ofexcitement coming on the top of her two days' emotion, she sobbedhysterically. "They'll be here at seven!" she moaned. "What will happen?Oh, Mr Neeld! And I know he'll expect me to be calm and--and to carry itoff--and be composed. How can I be?"

"Perhaps a glass of sherry----?" was Mr Neeld's not unreasonablesuggestion. 

No, the old brown would not serve here. But without its aid a suddenchange came over Mina. She sprang to her feet and left the tears toroll down her cheeks untended as she cried, "What a splendid thing to do! Oh, how like Harry! And it's to be settledto-night! What can we do to make it go right?"

"I intend to take no responsibility at all, " protested Neeld. "I'm hereto speak to the facts if I'm wanted, but----"

"Oh, bother the facts! What are we to do to make her take it properly?"She gave another sob. "Oh, I'm an idiot!" she cried. "Haven't youanything to suggest, Mr Neeld?"

He shrugged his shoulders peevishly. Her spirits fell again. 

"I see! Yes, if she--if she doesn't take it properly, he'll go awayagain, and I'm to be ready to stay here. " Another change in thebarometer came in a flash. "But she can't help being Lady Tristram now!"

"It's all a most unjustifiable proceeding. He tricks the girl----"

"Yes, he had to. That was the only chance. If he'd told her before----"

"But isn't she in love with him?"

"Oh, you don't know the Tristrams! Oh, what are we to do?" Save runningthrough every kind and degree of emotion Mina seemed to find nothing todo. 

"And I'm bound to say that I consider our position most embarrassing. "Mr Neeld spoke with some warmth, with some excuse too perhaps. Towelcome a newly married couple home may be thought always to requiresome tact; when it is a toss-up whether they will not part again forever under your very eyes the situation is not improved. Such trialsshould not be inflicted on quiet old bachelors; Josiah Cholderton hadnot done with his editor yet. 

"We must treat it as a mere trifle, " the Imp announced, fixing on thething which above all others she could not achieve. Yet her manner wasso confident that Neeld gasped. "And if that doesn't do, we must tellher that the happiness of her whole life depends on what she doesto-night. " Variety of treatment was evidently not to be lacking. 

"I intend to take no responsibility of any kind. He's got himself into ascrape. Let him get out of it, " persisted Neeld. 

"I thought you were his friend?"

"I may be excused if I consider the lady a little too. "

"I suppose I don't care for Cecily? Do you mean that, Mr Neeld?"

"My dear friend, need we quarrel too?"

"Don't be stupid. Who's quarrelling? I never knew anybody so useless asyou are. Can't you do anything but sit there and talk aboutresponsibilities?" She was ranging about, a diminutive tiger ofunusually active habits. She had wandered round the room again beforeshe burst out:

"Oh, but it's something to see the end of it!"

That was his feeling too, however much he might rebuke himself for it. Human life at first-hand had not been too plentiful with him. The Imp'sexcitement infected him. "And he's back here after all!" she cried. "Atleast--Heavens, they'll be here directly, Mr Neeld!"

"Yes, it's past seven, " said he. 

"Come into the garden. We'll wait for them on the bridge. " She turned tohim as they passed through the hall. "Wouldn't you like something ofthis sort to happen to you?" she asked. 

No. He was perturbed enough as a spectator; he would not have beenhimself engaged in the play. 

"Why isn't everybody here?" she demanded, with a laugh that was againnervous and almost hysterical. "Why isn't Addie Tristram here? Ah, andyour old Cholderton?"

"Hark, I hear wheels on the road, " said Mr Neeld. 

Mina looked hard at him. "She shall do right, " she said, "and Harryshall not go. "

"Surely they'll make the best of a----?"

"Oh, we're not talking of your Ivers and your Broadleys!" sheinterrupted indignantly. "If they were like that, we should never havebeen where we are at all. "

How true it was, how lamentably true! One had to presuppose AddieTristram, and turns of fortune or of chance wayward as Addieherself--and to reckon with the same blood, now in young and livingveins. 

"I can't bear it, " whispered Mina. 

"He'll expect you to be calm and composed, " Neeld reminded her. 

"Then give me a cigarette, " she implored despairingly. 

"I am not a smoker, " said Mr Neeld. 

"Oh, you really are the very last man----! Well, come on the bridge, "groaned Mina. 

They waited on the bridge, and the wheels drew near. They spoke no more. They had found nothing to do. They could only wait. A fly came down theroad. 

There they sat, side by side. Cecily was leaning forward, her eyes wereeager, and there was a bright touch of color on her cheeks; Harry leantback, looking at her, not at Blent. He wore a quiet smile; his air wasvery calm. He saw Mina and Neeld, and waved his hand to them. The flystopped opposite the bridge. He jumped out and assisted Cecily toalight. In a moment she was in Mina's arms. The next, she recognizedNeeld's presence with a little cry of surprise. At a loss to accountfor himself, the old man stood there in embarrassed wretchedness. 

"I want you to wait, " said Harry to the driver. "Put up in the stables, and they'll give you something to eat. You must wait till I send youword. "

"Wait? Why is he to wait, Harry?" asked Cecily. Her tone was gay; shewas overflowing with joy and merriment. "Who's going away? Oh, is ityou, Mr Neeld?"

"I--I have a trap from Mr Iver's, " he stammered. 

"I may want to send a message, " Harry explained. "Kind of you to come, Mr Neeld. "

"I--I must wish you joy, " said Neeld, taking refuge in conventionality. 

"We've had a capital journey down, haven't we, Cecily? And I'm awfullyhungry. What time is it?"

Mason was rubbing his hands in the doorway. 

"Dinner's ordered at eight, sir, " said he. 

"And it's half-past seven now. Just time to wash our hands. No dressto-night, you know. "

"I'll go to my room, " said Cecily. "Will you come with me, Mina?"

A glance from Harry made the Imp excuse herself. "I'll keep Mr Neeldcompany, " she said. 

Cecily turned to her husband. She smiled and blushed a little. 

"I'll take you as far as your room, " said he. 

Mina and Neeld watched them go upstairs; then each dropped into a chairin the hall. Mason passed by, chuckling to himself; Neeld lookedharmless, and he dared to speak to him. 

"Well, this is the next best thing to Mr Harry coming back to his own, sir, " said he. 

That was it. That was the feeling. Mason had got it!

"I'm glad of it after all, " Neeld confessed to Mina. 

"Wait, wait!" she urged, sitting straight in her chair, apparentlylistening for any sound. Her obvious anxiety extended its contagion tohim; he understood better how nice the issue was. 

"Will you come in the garden with me after dinner?" asked Harry, asCecily and he went upstairs. 

"Of course--when they've gone. "

"No, directly. I want to say a word to you. "

"We must escape then!" she laughed. "Oh, well, they'll expect that, Isuppose. " Her delight in her love bubbled over in her laugh. 

They came to the door of her room, and she stopped. 

"Here?" asked Harry. "Yes, it was my mother's room. You reign now in mymother's stead. "

His voice had a ring of triumph in it. He kissed her hand. "Dinner assoon as you're ready, " said he. 

She laughed again and blushed as she opened the door and stood holdingthe handle. 

"Won't you come in--just for a minute, Harry? I--I haven't changed thisroom at all. "

"All is yours to change or to keep unchanged, " said he. 

"Oh, I've no reason for changing anything now. Everything's to be putback in the Long Gallery!" She paused, and then said again, "Won't youcome in for just a minute, Harry?"

"I must go back to our friends downstairs, " he answered. 

The pretext was threadbare. What did the guests matter? They would dowell enough. It had cost her something to ask--a little effort--sincethe request still seemed so strange, since its pleasure had a fear init. And now she was refused. 

"I ask you, " she said, with a sudden haughtiness. 

He stood looking at her a moment. There was a brisk step along thecorridor. 

"Oh, I beg your Ladyship's pardon. I didn't know your Ladyship had comeupstairs. " It was Cecily's maid. 

"In about twenty minutes, " said Harry with a nod. Slowly Cecily followedthe maid inside. 

After he had washed his hands Harry rejoined his friends. They werestill sitting in the hall with an air of expectancy. 

"You've told her?" cried Mina. "Oh, yes, Mr Neeld has told meeverything. "

"Well, I've mentioned the bare fact----" Neeld began. 

"Yes, yes, that's the only thing that matters. You've told her, Harry?"The last two days made him "Harry" and her "Mina. "

"No, I had a chance and I--funked it, " said Harry, slow in speech andslow in smile. "She asked me into her room. Well, I wouldn't go. "

He laughed as he spoke, laughed rather scornfully. 

"It's rather absurd. I shall be all right after dinner, " he added, laughing still. "Or would you like to do the job for me, Mina?"

The Imp shook her head with immense determination. "I'll throw myselfinto the Blent if you like, " she said. 

"What about you, Mr Neeld?"

"My dear friend, oh, my dear friend!" Undisguised panic tookpossession of Mr Neeld. He tried to cover it by saying sternly, "This--er--preposterous position is entirely your own fault, you know. You have acted----"

"Yes, I know, " nodded Harry, not impatiently but with a sombre assent. He roused himself the next moment, saying, "Well, somebody's got to bellthe cat, you know. "

"Really it's not my business, " protested Neeld and Mina in one breath, both laughing nervously. 

"You like the fun, but you don't want any of the work, " remarked Harry. 

That was true, true to their disgrace. They both felt the reproach. Howwere they better than the rest of the neighborhood, who were content togossip and gape and take the fortunes of the Tristrams as mere matterfor their own entertainment?

"I've made you look ashamed of yourselves now, " he laughed. "Well, Imust do the thing myself, I suppose. What a pity Miss Swinkerton isn'there!"

Cecily came down. She passed Harry with a rather distant air and tookNeeld's arm. 

"They say dinner's ready, " said she. "Mina, will you come with Harry?"

Harry sank into the chair opposite Cecily--and opposite the picture ofAddie Tristram on the wall. "Well, somehow I've managed to get backhere, " said he. 

The shadow had passed from Cecily's face. She looked at him, blushingand laughing. 

"At a terrible price, poor Harry?" she said. 

"At a big price, " he answered. 

She looked round at the three. Harry was composed, but there was nomistaking the perturbation of the Imp and Mr Neeld. 

"A big price?" she asked wonderingly. "Isn't that a queer compliment, Harry?" Then a light seemed to break in on her, and she cried: "You meanthe cost of your pride? I should never let that stand between you andme!"

"Will you make a note of that admission, Mina?" said Harry with a smile. "Because you didn't say so always, Cecily. Do you recollect what youonce said? 'If ever the time comes, I shall remember!' That was whatyou said. "

She looked at him with a glance that was suddenly troubled. There seemeda meaning in his words. She pushed back her chair and rose from thetable. 

"I don't want dinner. I'm going into the garden, " she said. 

They sat still as she went out. Harry refolded his napkin and slowlyrose to his feet. "I should have liked it better after dinner, " heobserved. 

Mina and Mr Neeld sat on. 

"Are we to dine?" whispered Neeld. There is the body, after all. 

"Oh, yes, sir, " came in Mason's soothing tones over his shoulder. "Wenever waited for her late Ladyship. " And he handed soup. 

"Really Mason is rather a comfort, " thought Mr Neeld. The Imp drank aglass of champagne. 

XXIX

THE CURMUDGEON

In his most business-like tones, with no more gesture than a pointing ofhis finger now and then, or an occasional wave of his hand, Harrydetailed the circumstances. He was methodical and accurate; he mighthave been opening a case in the law-courts, and would have earned acompliment on his lucidity. There was something ludicrous in thistreatment of the matter, but he remained very grave, although quiteunemotional. 

"What was my position then?" he asked. "I remembered what you'd said. Isaw the pull I'd given you. If I'd told you before, you'd have hadnothing to do with me. You'd have taken a tragic delight in going backto your little house. I should have given you your revenge. "

"So you cheated me? It shows the sort of person you are!"

He went on as though he had not heard her indignant ejaculation. 

"I had fallen in love with you--with you and with the idea of your beinghere. I couldn't have anybody else at Blent, and I had to have you. Itwas impossible for me to turn you out. I don't think it would have beengentlemanly. "

"It was more gentlemanly to marry me on false pretences?"

"Well, perhaps not, but a form of ungentlemanliness less repulsive tome--Oh, just to me personally. I don't know whether you quite understandyet why I gave up Blent to you. Just the same feeling has made me dothis--with the addition, of course, that I'm more in love with you now. "

"I don't believe it, or you'd have trusted me--trusted my love for you. "

"I've trusted it enormously--trusted it to forgive me this deceit. "

"If you had come and told me----"

"At the very best you'd have taken months. "

"And you couldn't wait for me?"

"Well, waiting's a thing I detest. "

"Oh, I've made up my mind, " she declared. "I shall go back to townto-night. "

"No, no, that's not it. " Harry did not want the arrangementmisunderstood. "If we can't agree, I go back to town--not you. I kept myfly. "

"You needn't make fun of it anyhow. "

"I'm not. I'm quite serious. You stay here, I go away. I accept thispost abroad--the Arbitration business. I've got to send an answer aboutit to-morrow. "

"No, I shall go. I'm resolved upon it. I won't stay here. "

"Then we must shut the place up, or pull it down, " said Harry. "It willlook absurd, but--Well, we never consider the neighbors. " For the firsttime he seemed vexed. "I did count on your staying here, " he explained. 

"I can never forgive you for deceiving me. "

"You said you wouldn't let your pride stand between us. "

"It's not my pride. It's--it's the revelation of what you are, and whatyou'll stoop to do, to gain----!"

"What have I gained yet?" he asked. "Only what you choose to give menow!"

She looked at him for a moment. The little scene in the corridorupstairs came back to her. So that was the meaning of it!

"I've taken your freedom from you. That's true. In return I've given youBlent. I did the best I could. "

"Oh, do you really delude yourself like that? What you did was utterselfishness. "

Harry sighed. They were not getting on prosperously. 

"Very well, " he said. "We'll agree on that. There's been a revelation ofwhat I am. I don't--I distinctly don't justify myself. It was a lie, afraud. "

"Yes, " said Cecily, in a low but emphatic assent. 

"I gained your consent by a trick, when you ought to have been free togive or refuse it. I admit it all. "

"And it has brought us to this!" She rose as she spoke, a picture ofindignation. "There's no use talking any more about it, " said she. 

He looked at her long and deliberately. He seemed to weigh something inhis mind, to ask whether he should or should not say something. 

"And you conclude that the sort of person I am isn't fit to live with?"he asked at last. 

"I've told you what I've made up my mind to do. I can't help whether youstay or go too. But I'm going away from here, and going alone. "

"Because I'm that sort of person?"

"Yes. If you like to put it that way, yes. "

"Very well. But before you go, a word about you! Sit down, please. " Sheobeyed his rather imperative gesture. "I've been meek, " he smiled. "I'veadmitted all you said about me. And now, please, a word about you!"

"About me? What is there to say about me? Oh, you're going back to thatold story about my pride again!"

Once more he looked long at her face. It was flushed and rebellious, itgave no hint of yielding to any weapon that he had yet employed. 

"I'm not going to speak of your pride, but of your incredible meanness, "said he. 

"What?" cried Cecily, rudely startled and sitting bolt upright. 

"There's no harm in plain speaking, since we're going to part. Of yourextraordinary meanness, Cecily--and really it's not generally a fault ofthe Tristrams. "

"Perhaps you'll explain yourself, " she said, relapsing into colddisdain, and leaning back again. 

"I will. I mean to. Just look at the history of the whole affair. " Herose and stood opposite her, constraining her to look at him, althoughher attitude professed a lofty indifference. "Here was I--in possession!I was safe. I knew I was safe. I was as convinced of my safety as I ameven now--when it's beyond question. Was I frightened? Ask Mina, askDuplay. Then you came. You know what I did. For your sake, because youwere what you are, because I had begun to love you--yes, that's thetruth of it--I gave it all to you. Not this place only, but all I had. Even my name--even my right to bear any name. Nobody and nameless, Iwent out of this house for you. "

He paused a little, took a pace on the grass, and returned to her. 

"What ought you to have felt, what ought you to have prayed then?" heasked. "Surely that it should come back to me, that it should be mineagain?"

"I did, " she protested, stirred to self-defence. "I was miserable. Youknow I was. I couldn't stay here for the thought of you. I came toLondon. I came to you, Harry. I offered it to you. "

"It's you who are deceiving yourself now. Yes, you came and offered itto me. Did you want, did you pray, that it might be mine again by nogift of yours but by right? Did you pray that the thing should happenwhich has happened now? That you should be turned out and I should beput in? Back in my own place, my proper place? That I should be Tristramof Blent again? Did you pray for that?"

He paused, but she said nothing. Her face was troubled now and her eyescould not leave his. 

"You were ready to play Lady Bountiful to me, to give of your charity, to make yourself feel very noble. That was it. And now----" His voicebecame more vehement. "And now, look into your heart, look close! Look, look! What's in your heart now? You say I've cheated you. It's true. Isthat why you're angry, is that why you won't live with me? No, byheaven, not that, or anything of the kind! Will you have the truth?"

Again she made no answer. She waited for his words. 

"Are you rejoiced that mine's my own again, that I'm back in my place, that I'm Tristram of Blent, that it belongs to me? That I take it by myown incontestable right and not of your hand, by your bounty and yourcharity? Are you so rejoiced at that that you can forgive me anything, forgive the man you love anything? Yes, you do love me--You're welcometo that, if you think it makes it any better. It seems to me to make itworse. No, you can't forgive me anything, you can't forgive the man youlove! Why not? I'll tell you why! Shall I? Shall I go on?"

She bowed her head and clasped her hands together. 

"You hate my having come to my own again. You hate its being mine byright and not by your bounty. You hate being Lady Tristram only becauseI've chosen to make you so. And because you hate that, you won'tforgive me, and you say you won't live with me. Yes, you're angrybecause I've come to my own again. You hate it. Look in your heart, Isay, and tell me that what I say isn't true, if you can. "

She made no answer still. He came a step closer and smote his fist onthe palm of his other hand, as he ended:

"You called me a liar. I was a liar. But, by God, you're a curmudgeon, Cecily!"

For a moment longer she looked at him, as he stood there in his scornfulanger. Then with a low moan she hid her face in her hands. The nextminute he turned on his heel, left her where she sat, and strode offinto the house. 

Mina and Neeld--now at their sweets--heard his step and exchangedexcited glances. He walked up to the head of the table, to Cecily'schair, plumped down into it, and called out to Mason, "Something to eatand some champagne. "

"Yes, sir, " said Mason in a flurry. 

"Oh, by-the-bye, you can say 'my Lord' again. The lawyers blundered, andthere's been a mistake. "

The astonished Mason began to express felicitations. Harry waspetulantly short with him. 

"Oh, shut up that, my dear man, and give me some champagne. " He drank aglass off and then observed, "I hope you two have had a decent dinner?"He had the manner of a host now. 

"I--I hadn't much appetite, " stammered Neeld. 

"Well, I'm hungry anyhow, " and he fell to on his beef, having waved soupand fish aside impatiently. "Tell them all downstairs what I've toldyou, Mason, but for heaven's sake don't let there be any fuss. Oh, and Isuppose you'd better keep something hot for Lady Tristram. "

Mason's exit was hastened by the consciousness of his commission. Themoment he was gone Mina broke out:

"Where's Cecily?"

"I left her on the lawn, " said Harry, frowning hard but eating heartily. 

"You've told her?"

"Yes, I've told her. "

"And what did she say?" The Imp's utterance was jerky from herperturbation. 

"Look here, Mina, mightn't you go and ask her? It's a long story, andI'm deuced hungry, you know. "

Mina needed no further permission. She rose and flew. Neeld, thoughuncertain what was expected of him, sat on, nervously eatinggooseberries--a fruit which rarely agreed with him. Harry drank a secondglass of champagne and his brow relaxed, although he was stillthoughtful. 

"I--I hope all has gone well?" Neeld ventured to inquire. 

"I scarcely know. The interview took rather an unexpected turn. " Hespoke as though the development had surprised him and he could hardlytrace how it had come about. "The whole thing will be settled verysoon, " he added. "Have a glass of port, Mr Neeld? It'll do you more goodthan those gooseberries. "

Neeld laid a ready hand on the decanter, as he asked, "Is--er--Lady Tristram not coming in to dinner?"

"Really I don't know. She didn't mention it. " His thoughts seemedelsewhere. "Was I wrong to tell Mason to give me the title?" he asked. "Ought I to wait till I've formally established my claim?"

"Since it's quite clear, and there's no opposition from--from thedispossessed claimant----" Neeld smiled feebly and sipped his port. 

"That's what I thought; and it's as well to put things on a permanentbasis as soon as possible. When once that's done, we shall think lessabout all this troublesome affair. " He sat silent for a few minutes, while Neeld finished his wine. "I'm going to have some cheese. Don't youwait, Mr Neeld. "

Old Neeld was glad to escape; he could not understand his host's moodand was uneasy in talk with him. Moreover it seemed that the greatquestion was being decided in the garden and not in the dining-room. Tothe garden then he betook himself. 

Harry smoked a cigarette when his meal was done, twisting his chairround so that he could see Addie Tristram's picture. He reviewed histalk with Cecily, trying to trace how that unexpected turn in it hadcome about and at what point the weapon had sprung into his hand. He hadused it with effect--whether with the effect he desired he did not yetknow. But his use of it had not been altogether a ruse or an artifice. His sincerity, his vehemence, his very cruelty proved that. He hadspoken out a genuine resentment and a righteous reproach. Thence camethe power to meet Cecily's taunts in equal battle and to silence hercharges of deceit with his retort of meanness. 

"And we were married to-day! And we're damnably in love with oneanother!" he reflected. "I suppose we should seem queer to some people. "This was a great advance toward an outside view of the family. Certainlysuch an idea had never occurred to Addie; she had always done the onlypossible thing! "Now what will she do?"

At least it did not seem as though she meant to have any dinner. Thefact would have meant much had a man been concerned. With a woman itpossessed no more than a moderate significance. With a Tristram womanperhaps it had none at all. A cigar succeeded the cigarette in Harry'smouth, as he sat there looking at his mother's picture and thinking ofhis wife. He did not in the least regret that she was his wife or thathe had lied. Any scruples that he ever had on that score he had removedfor himself by realizing that she was a curmudgeon. Neither did heregret what he had called the troublesome affair. It had brought newthings into his life; new thoughts and new powers had become his. And ithad given him Cecily--unless one of them had still to go to town! Heglanced at the clock; it was half-past nine. A sudden excitement came onhim; but he conquered it or at least held it down, and sat there, smoking still. 

Mason returned and began to clear away. "Madame Zabriska has orderedsome soup and claret to be placed in the hall for her Ladyship, myLord, " said he, in explanation of his action. 

Soup and claret might mean anything--peace or war--going orstaying--anything except sitting down to table with him. On the wholetheir omen was not encouraging. A sudden thought shot across his brain:"By Jove, if she's taken my cab!" He jumped up; but in a moment sat downagain. The _coup_ would be a good one, but it would not beat him. Hewould walk to Mingham and get a bed there. He was quite clear that hewould not sleep alone at Blent. He glanced at the clock again; to catchthe train at Fillingford she must start at ten--and so with him. Staythough, she might go to Merrion. Mina would give her shelter. 

She had looked very beautiful. Oh, yes, yes! Harry smiled as he concededthe natural man that point. It was seen plainly in retrospect; he hadnot noticed it much at the time. He had been too much occupied inproving her a curmudgeon. One thing at a time was the Tristramway--provided the time were reasonably short. But he felt it now, andbegan to wonder if he had said too much. He decided that he had notsaid a word too much. 

At last he got up very deliberately and went into the hall. It was aquarter to ten; the soup and the claret were there. Harry stood lookingat them a moment, but they could not answer his question. With animpatient shrug of his shoulders he walked out into the garden. Andthere his first thought was not of Cecily. 

It was of Blent, Blent his own again, come back to him enriched by theexperience of its loss, now no more all his life, but the background ofthat new life he had begun to make for himself. He was no longer puffedup by the possession of it--the new experiences had taught him a lessonthere--but he was infinitely satisfied. Blent for his own, in his ownway, on his own terms--that was what he wanted. See how fair it was inthe still night! He was glad and exultant that it was his again. Was hetoo a curmudgeon then? Harry did not perceive how any reasonable personcould say such a thing. A man may value what is his own without being amiser or a churl. 

Nobody was to be seen in the garden--not Neeld, not Mina, nor Cecily. Insurprise he walked the length and breadth of it without finding any ofthem. He went on to the bridge and peered about, and then on to theroad; he looked even in the river in a curiosity that forgot theimpossible. He was alone. With a quick step he came back and stroderound the house to the stables. His fly was gone. He searched for a manto question; there was none; they had all gone to supper or to bed. Andthe fly was gone. He returned to the bridge with an uncomfortablefeeling of loneliness. 

Something came upon him, an impulse or an instinct. There was still achance. She was not in the house, she was not in the garden. There wasone other place where she still might be--if indeed she had not fledand left him desolate. Where? The answer seemed so easy to him, herchoice of a spot so obvious. If he found her anywhere that night hewould find her by the Pool, walking on the margin of its waters--wherehe had seen her first and started at the thought that she was hismother's phantom. He walked quickly up the valley, not thinking, hiswhole being strung to wait for and to meet the answer to his one greatquestion. 

On what things a man's life may seem to hang! A flutter of white throughthe darkness! That was all. Harry saw it with a great leap of the heart. His quick pace dropped to a leisurely saunter; he strolled on. She waswalking toward him. Presently she stopped, and, turning toward thewater, stood looking down into it. The Pool was very black that night, the clouds thick overhead. But for her white frock he might never hadseen her at all. He came up to her and spoke in a careless voice. 

"Where's Neeld?" he asked. "I can't find him anywhere. "

"He's gone back to Fairholme, Harry. It was late. I was to saygood-night to you for him. "

"And what have you done with Mina?" His voice was level, even, andrestrained. 

"Mina's gone to Merrion. " She paused before she added: "She was tired, so I put her in your fly to go up the hill. "

There was silence for a moment. Then he asked: "Did you tell the fly tocome back again?"

Silence again, and then a voice of deceptive meekness, of hidden mirth, answered him: "No, Harry. "

"I knew you'd be here, if anywhere. "

"Well, I was sure you'd come here to look for me, before you gave meup. " She put out her hands and he took them in his. "It was all truethat you said about me, all abominably true. "

He did not contradict her. 

"That's why I'm here, " she went on. "When you've feelings like that, it's your duty not to run away from the place that excites them, but tostay there and fight them down manfully. "

"I agree, " said Harry gravely. "When you've basely deceived and trickedsomebody it's cowardly to run away. The straightest thing is to staywith that person and try to redeem your character. "

"How did you know it?" she asked. "I hardly knew it was in my heartmyself. "

"It sharpens a man's wits to be called a liar--and not to be able todeny the name. "

"And you called me a--curmudgeon! Oh, how did you happen on that funnyold word?" Her laugh rang fresh and gay through the quiet of the night. "After you'd gone, Mina came to me. "

"What happened then?"

"Well, I ought to have cried--and Mina did. "

"Did Mina stop you going?"

"Mina? No!" The acme of scorn was in her voice. 

"What then?" he asked, drawing her a little nearer to him. 

"I wanted to obey your wishes. You said I was to stay--and you'd go. "

"Yes, but you've sent away the fly, " objected Harry. "Well, all that yousaid of me was true too. "

"We should start on a clear understanding then?"

"I'm a liar--and you're a curmudgeon? Yes. "

"What awful quarrels we shall have!"

"I don't care a hang for them, " said Harry. 

"And what about the Arbitration?"

"Absurd, if I'm going to live in a state of war!"

Suddenly came a sound of wheels rolling briskly along the road frombehind them. Cecily sprang away with a start. 

"Oh, the fly's not come back?" she cried. 

"Perhaps there's still a chance for one of us. "

She caught him by the arm. "Listen! Is it stopping? No! It must be pastthe house!"

"Do you want it to stop?" he asked. 

She turned her eyes on him; he saw them gleam through the darkness. Hesaw her lips just move; he heard no more than the lingering fear, thepassionate reproach, of her murmured exclamation, "Oh, Harry!"

The next instant a voice rang out in the night, loud, mellow, andbuoyant. They listened as it sang, its notes dominating the sound of thewheels and seeming to fill the air around them, growing louder as thewheels came near, sinking again as they passed on the road to Mingham:

 "Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine: Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine:--"

Gradually, melodiously, and happily the voice died away in the distance, and silence came. Harry drew his love to him. 

"Dear old Bob Broadley!" said he softly. "He's driving back fromFairholme, and he seems most particularly jolly. "

"Yes, " she murmured. Then she broke into a low, merry, triumphant laugh. "I don't see why he should be so particularly jolly. " She pressed hishand hard, laughing again. "He's only engaged, " she whispered. "Butwe're married, aren't we, Harry?"

"My dear, my dear, my dear!" said he. 

XXX

TILL THE NEXT GENERATION

Major Duplay had taken a flat in town, and Mina had come up to aid himin the task of furnishing it. The Major was busy and prosperous in thesedays. Blinkhampton was turning up trumps for all concerned, for Iver, for Harry, for Southend, and for him; the scheme even promised to beremunerative to the investing public. So he had told Mina that he mustbe on the spot, and that henceforward the country and the Continentwould know him only in occasional days of recreation. He also murmuredsomething about having met a very attractive woman, a widow ofthirty-five. The general result seemed to be that he had forgotten hissorrows, was well content, and a good deal more independent of hisniece's society and countenance than he had been before. All this Minatold to Lady Evenswood when she went to lunch in Green Street. 

"Yes, I think I've launched uncle, " said she complacently, "and now Ishall devote myself to the Tristrams. "

"You've been doing that for a long time, my dear. "

"Yes, I suppose I have really, " she laughed. "I've been a sort of MissSwinkerton--I wish you knew her! Only I devoted myself to one family andshe does it for all the neighborhood. "

Lady Evenswood looked at her with a kindly smile. 

"You were rather in love with Harry, you know, " she said. 

"Which was very absurd, but--yes, I was. Only then Cecily cameand--well, it was altogether too artistic for me even to want tointerfere. If I had wanted, it would have made no difference, of course. They've been pressing me to go on living at Merrion, and I shall. "

"Oh, if you could get nothing but a pigsty on the estate, you'd take it. Though I don't know what you'll find to do. "

"To do? Oh, plenty! Why, they're only just beginning, and----!" The waveof her hands expressed the endless possibilities of a Tristramhousehold. 

"And gradually you'll glide into being an old woman like me--looking atthe new generation!"

"Her children and his! There ought to be something to look at, " saidMina wistfully. "But we've not done with Harry himself yet. "

"Robert says he's too fond of making money, or he might do something inpolitics. "

"It isn't money exactly. It's a good deal Blent. He wants to make thatsplendid. Perhaps he'll come to the politics in time. "

"He's made you believe in him anyhow. "

"Yes, and I know I don't count. All the same I've seen a good deal ofhim. Mr Neeld and I have been in it right from the beginning. "

"And in the end it was all a mare's nest. Fancy if Addie Tristram hadknown that!"

"I think she liked it just as well as she thought it was. And I'm sureHarry did. "

"Oh, if he's like that, he'll never do for the British public, my dear. He may get their money but he won't get their votes. After all, wouldyou have the country governed by Addie Tristram's son?"

"I suppose it would be rather risky, " said the Imp reluctantly. But shecheered up directly on the strength of an obvious thought. "There aremuch more interesting things than politics, " she said. 

"And how is Cecily?" asked Lady Evenswood. 

"Oh, she's just adorable--and Mrs Iver's got her a very goodhousekeeper. "

The old lady laughed as she turned to welcome Lord Southend. 

"I've just met Disney, " he remarked. "He doesn't seem to mind beingout. "

"Oh, he'll be back before long, and without his incumbrances. AndFlora's delighted to get a winter abroad. It couldn't have happened moreconveniently, she says. "

"He told me to tell you that he thought your young friend--he meantHarry Tristram--was lost forever now. "

"What a shame!" cried Mina indignantly. 

"Just like Robert! He never could understand that a man has a historyjust as a country has. He is and ought to be part of his family. "

"No sense of historical continuity, " nodded Southend. "I agree, andthat's just why, though I admire Disney enormously, I----"

"Generally vote against him on critical occasions? Yes, Robert makes somany admirers like that. "

"Is his work at Blinkhampton nothing?" demanded Mina. 

"He got in for that while he was dispossessed, " smiled Southend. "I say, thank heaven he wouldn't have the viscounty!"

"That would have been deplorable, " agreed Lady Evenswood. 

"It's all a very curious little episode. "

"Yes. No more than that. "

"Yes, it is more, " cried Mina. "Without it he'd never have marriedCecily. "

"Romance, Madame Zabriska, romance!" Southend shook his head at herseverely. 

Mina flinched a little under the opprobrium of the word. Yet why? Inthese days we have come to recognize--indeed there has been small choicein the matter, unless a man would throw away books and wear cotton-woolin his ears--that the romance of one generation makes the realities ofthe next, and that a love-affair twenty years old becomes a problem inheredity, demanding the attention of the learned, and receiving that ofthe general public also. So that though the affair and the man be to allseeming insignificant, consolation may be found in the prospect of aposthumous importance; and he who did nothing very visible in hislifetime may, when his son's biography comes to be written, be heldgrandfather to an epic poem or a murder on the high seas--and it seemsto be considered that it is touch and go which way the thing turns out. Are there then any episodes left? Does not everything become anenterprise of great pith and moment, with results that will probably, some day or other, be found to admit of mathematical demonstration?Happily the human race, in practice if not in theory, declines theconclusion. We know that we are free, and there's an end of it, said DrJohnson. Well, at least we can still think that we are doing what welike--and that's the beginning of most things. 

That temporary inferiority of Bob Broadley's, on which Cecily hadtouched so feelingly, was soon redressed, and after the wedding Harryhad a talk with the bride. It was not unnatural that she should blush alittle when he spoke to her--a passing tribute to the thought of whatmight have been. Harry greeted it with a laugh. 

"I suppose we'd better be straightforward about this?" he said. "Mingham's so near Blent, you see. We're both very glad, aren't we, MrsBroadley?"

"I imagine so, " said Janie. "You show no signs of pining anyhow. "

"And as to our behavior--there's not a father in the kingdom whowouldn't think us right. "

"I was the worst--because I think I was in love with Bob all the time. "

"I was just as bad--because I thought you were too, " said Harry. 

"How could we do it then?" she asked. 

"That's the odd thing. It didn't seem at all out of the way at thetime, " he pondered. 

"You'd do it again now, if the case arose, but I shouldn't. That's thedifference, " said she. 

Harry considered this remark for a moment with an impartial air. "Well, perhaps I should, " he admitted at last, "but you needn't tell that toCecily. Content yourself with discussing it with Mina or Mr Neeld. "

"I'm tired of both of them, " she cried. "They do nothing but talk aboutyou. "

That night as he sat in the garden at Blent with his wife, Harryreturned the compliment by talking of the Imp. He looked up towardMerrion and saw the lights in the windows. 

"I think Mina is with us for life, Cecily, " said he. 

"I like her to be, " she answered with a laugh. "First because I likebeing loved, and she loves me. And then I like you to be loved, and sheloves you. Besides, she's been so closely mixed up with it all, hasn'tshe? She knew about you before I did, she knew Blent before I did. Andit's not only with you and me. She knew your mother, Addie Tristram, too. "

"Yes, Mina goes right back to the beginning of the thing. "

"And the thing, as you call it, is what brought us here together. SoMina seems to have had something to do with that too. It all comes backto me when I look at her, and I like to have her here. "

"Well, she's part of the family story now. And she'll probably keep ajournal and make entries about us, like the late Mr Cholderton, and someday be edited by a future Mr Neeld. Mina must stop, that's clear. "

"It's clear anyhow--because nothing would make her go, " said Cecily. 

"Let's go up the hill and see her now?" he suggested. 

Together they climbed the hill and reached the terrace. There werepeople in the drawing-room, and Harry signed to Cecily to keep out ofsight. They approached stealthily. 

"Who's with her? I didn't know anyone was staying here, " whisperedCecily. 

Harry turned his face toward her, smiling. "Hush, it's old Neeld!"

They peeped in. Neeld was sitting in an arm-chair with some sheets ofpaper in his hand. He had his spectacles on and apparently had beenreading something aloud to Mina; indeed they heard his voice die awayjust as they came up. Mina stood in front of him, her manner full of herold excitement. 

"Yes, that's it, that's just right!" they heard her exclaim. "She stoodin the middle of the room and"--Harry pressed his wife's hand andlaughed silently--"she cried out just what you've read. I rememberexactly how she looked and the very words that Mr Cholderton uses. 'Think of the difference it makes, the enormous difference!' she said. Oh, it might have been yesterday, Mr Neeld!"

Harry leapt over the window-sill and burst into the room with a laugh. 

"Oh, you dear silly people, you're at it again!" said he. 

"The story does not lose its interest for me, " remarked old Mr Neeldprimly, and he added, as he greeted Cecily, "It won't so long as I canlook at your face, my dear. You keep Addie Tristram still alive for me. "

"She's Lady Tristram--and I'm the enormous difference, I suppose, " saidHarry. 

Mina and Neeld did not quite understand why Cecily turned so suddenlyand put her hand in Harry's, saying, "No, Harry, there's no differencenow. "

Meanwhile, down in Blentmouth, Miss Swinkerton looked up from the localpaper and remarked across the table to Mrs Trumbler:

"Here's an announcement that Lady Tristram will give a ball at Blent inJanuary. You'll remember that I told you that two months ago, MrsTrumbler. "

"Yes, Miss Swinkerton, but that was before all the----"

"Really I'm not often wrong, my dear, " interrupted Miss S. Decisively. 

"Well, I hope there won't be any more changes, " sighed Mrs Trumbler. "They're so very startling. "

She might rest in peace awhile. Addie Tristram was dead, and the titleto Blent was safe till the next generation. Beyond that it would notperhaps be safe to speak in view of the Tristram blood and the Tristramways. 

THE END. 

[Transcriber's Note: Several typographical errors in the originaledition have been corrected. The following sentences are as theyoriginally appeared, with corrections noted in brackets. ]

 Chapter VII

 That seemed to have little concern with Bod [Bob] Broadley and to be engrossed in the struggle between Harry and Duplay. 

 Both fell into silence again, lookingly [looking] absently at the sunshine playing among the trees. 

 Chapter VIII

 As it was, be [he] began to be convinced that Mina would decline to remember any dates even approximately, and this was all she had professed to do in her first disclosure. 

 Miss S. Looked as [at] her suspiciously. 

 Chapter XVIII

 "Well, yes, I--I'm interested in the family. ["] He telegraphed a glance of caution to the old lady; he meant to convey that the present was not a happy moment to broach the matter that was in their minds. 

 Chapter XXI

 Iver listened atentively [attentively], Harry with evident impatience.