d his hands fell limp and open by his side.

It was some time before he was able to command his voice sufficiently to
shape coherent words, but at length he managed to say in a hard,
half-choking tone:

"Of course it is impossible that you could tell me anything but the
truth, dad. And so I am the son of a disgraced woman, am I? Poor Eny,
what will she think of me now? Of course it will be all over between
us?"

His instinct had spoken, as Sir Godfrey Raleigh had said it would, and
spoken truly. But Sir Arthur said quickly:

"No; my boy. It is bad enough, God knows, but it may not be as bad as
that. I have been to see Miss Vane this morning, and when I had
satisfied myself of the relationship between you, I went on to Raleigh
and told him the whole story, as I thought it was only right to do. He
said, very properly I think, that it was a matter for you and Enid to
decide between yourselves, for after all it is the happiness of your
lives which is in question, and therefore the decision ought to rest
with you."

"I don't see how there can be any decision but one," said Vane, who had
sat down again, and, with his elbows on his knees and his face between
his hands, was staring with blank eyes down at the carpet. "And so I am
the son of that girl's mother, am I? Well, it couldn't be very much
worse than that, and yet, God help us, she is my mother after all."

Then he threw himself back in his chair, let his hands fall limply over
the arms and stared up at the ceiling.

"You may as well tell me the whole of the story, now dad," he went on,
in a broken, miserable voice. "You had better tell me, and then I shall
know where I am."

His father looked at him for a moment or two in silence, and then he
said, with a note of reproof in his tone:

"That is a hasty judgment, Vane, but a natural one, I admit. When I have
told you the story you will see what I mean. The mother who bore you was
as good and pure a woman as ever lived when she became your mother, and
this girl, from what I have seen of her this morning, I am perfectly
certain is thoroughly good and honest in herself. I am satisfied that it
is her fate that has made her what she is; not her fault."

"Yes," said Vane, "I was wrong. After all I have no right to judge my
mother. I remember nothing about her, and as for Carol, she is a good
girl whatever else she may be. Can't something be done for her, dad? I
mean something to get her out of that horrible life. It