r and son. He's due at
business in the morning; but what does that matter? It doesn't suit his
lordship to keep time.'

He laughed again, his emphasis on 'lordship' showing that he consciously
played with the family name.

'But I was a fool to be angry. Let them come when they will.'

For a few minutes he lay back in the chair, gazing at vacancy.

'Has the girl gone to bed?'

'I'll tell her she can go.'

Mary soon returned, and took up the book with which she had been
engaged. In a low voice, and as if speaking without much thought,
Stephen asked her what she was reading. It was a volume of an old
magazine, bought by Mr. Lord many years ago.

'Yes, yes. Nancy laughs at it--calls it old rubbish. These young people
are so clever.'

His companion made no remark. Unobserved, he scrutinised her face for a
long time, and said at length:

'Don't let _us_ fall out, Mary. You're not pleased with me, and I know
why. I said all women were deceitful, and you took it too seriously.
You ought to know me better. There's something comes on me every now and
then, and makes me say the worst I can no matter who it hurts. Could I
be such a fool as to think ill of _you_?'

'It did hurt me,' replied the other, still bent over her book. 'But it
was only the sound of it. I knew you said more than you meant.'

'I'm a fool, and I've been a fool all my life. Is it likely I should
have wise children? When I went off to the Barmbys', I thought of
sending Samuel down to Teignmouth, to find out what they were at. But I
altered my mind before I got there. What good would it have done? All
I _can_ do I've done already. I made my will the other day; it's signed
and witnessed. I've made it as I told you I should. I'm not much longer
for this world, but I've saved the girl from foolishness till she's
six-and-twenty. After that she must take care of herself.'

They sat silent whilst the clock on the mantelpiece ticked away a
few more minutes. Mr. Lord's features betrayed the working of turbid
thought, a stern resentment their prevailing expression. When reverie
released him, he again looked at his companion.

'Mary, did you ever ask yourself what sort of woman Nancy's mother may
have been?'

The listener started, like one in whom a secret has been surprised. She
tried to answer, but after all did not speak.

'I'll tell you,' Stephen pursued. 'Yes, I'll tell you. You must know it.
Not a year after the boy's birth, she left me. And I made