o Lucy as
though she were his only hope. 'You won't forget me while I'm away,
Lucy?'

'I'll come and see you whenever I'm allowed to.'

'It won't be very long. I hope I shall die quickly.'

'You mustn't do that. You must keep well and strong for my sake and
George's. We shall never cease to love you, father.'

'What's going to happen to George now?' he asked.

'We shall find something for him. You need not worry about him.'

George flushed. He could find nothing to say. He was ashamed and angry.
He wanted to get away quickly from that place of horror, and he was
relieved when the warder told them it was time to go.

'Good-bye, George,' said Fred Allerton.

'Good-bye.'

He kept his eyes sullenly fixed on the ground. The look of despair in
Allerton's face grew more intense. He saw that his son hated him. And it
had been on him that all his light affection was placed. He had been
very proud of the handsome boy. And now his son merely wanted to be rid
of him. Bitter words rose to his lips, but his heart was too heavy to
utter them, and they expressed themselves only in a sob.

'Forgive me for all I've done against you, Lucy.'

'Have courage, father, we will never love you less.'

He forced a sad smile to his lips. She included George in what she said,
but he knew that she spoke only for herself. They went. And he turned
away into the darkness.

* * *

Lucy's tears relieved her a little. They exhausted her, and so made her
agony more easy to bear. It was necessary now to think of the future.
Alec MacKenzie must be there soon. She wondered why he had written, and
what he could have to say that mattered. She could only think of her
father, and above all of George. She dried her eyes, and with a deep
sigh set herself methodically to consider the difficult problem.

* * *

When Alec came she rose gravely to receive him. For a moment he was
overcome by her loveliness, and he gazed at her in silence. Lucy was a
woman who was at her best in the tragic situations of life; her beauty
was heightened by the travail of her soul, and the heaviness of her
eyes gave a pathetic grandeur to her wan face. She advanced to meet
sorrow with an unquailing glance, and Alec, who knew something of
heroism, recognised the greatness of her heart. Of late he had been more
than once to see that portrait of _Diana of the Uplands_, in which he,
too, found the gracious healthiness of Lucy Allerton; but now she seemed
like some sad quee