Dick said awkwardly, "after what has happened, I'd rather not
live on British soil."

"Then why not try Hamburg?"

Dick flushed.

"You might have spared me that, sir! I lost the plans; I didn't sell
them."

"Very well. This interview is naturally painful to us both and we'll cut
it short, but I have something to say. It will not be forgotten that you
were turned out of the army, and if you succeeded me, the ugly story
would be whispered when you took any public post. I cannot have our name
tainted and will therefore leave the house and part of my property to
your cousin. Whether you inherit the rest or not will depend upon
yourself. In the meantime, I am prepared to make you an allowance, on the
understanding that you stay abroad until you are sent for."

Dick faced his father, standing very straight, with knitted brows.

"Thank you, sir, but I will take nothing."

"May I ask why?"

"If you'd looked at the thing differently and shown a little kindness, it
would have cut me to the quick," Dick said hoarsely. "I'm not a thief and
a traitor, though I've been a fool, and it hurts to know what you think.
I'm going away to-morrow and I'll get on, somehow, without your help. I
don't know that I'll come back if you do send for me."

"You don't seem to understand your position, but you may come to realize
it before very long," Brandon replied.

He got up and Dick left the library; but he did not sleep that night. It
had been hard to meet his father and what he said had left a wound that
would take long to heal. Now he must say good-by to Helen. This would
need courage, but Dick meant to see her. It was the girl's right that she
should hear his story, and he would not steal away like a cur. He did not
think Helen was really fond of him, though he imagined that she would
have acquiesced in her relatives' plans for them both had things been
different. Now, of course, that was done with, but he must say good-by
and she might show some regret or sympathy. He did not want her to
suffer, but he did not think she would feel the parting much; and she
would not treat him as his father had done.

When he called the next morning at an old country house, he was told that
Miss Massie was in the garden, and going there, he stopped abruptly at a
gap in a shrubbery. Beyond the opening there was a stretch of smooth
grass, checkered by moving shadow, and at one side a row of gladioli
glowed against the paler bloom of yellow dahlias.