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 through
the 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 new
emotion 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 now
you'll understand that we're the Tristrams of Blent, and that we live
and die that." His voice grew a little louder. "And your nonsense!" he
exclaimed; "it's all a lie. But if it was true? It's the blood, isn't
it, not the law, that matters? It's her blood and my blood. That's my
real title to Blent!"

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

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

Harry Tristram stood and watched her as long as he could see her
retreating figure. There were no signs of excitement about him; even his
confession 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 the
house.

"The Major must play his hand alone now," he said; "he'll get no more
help from her." He paused a moment. "It's a funny thing, though. That's
not really why I took her up."

He shook his head in puzzle; perhaps he could hardly be expected to
recognize 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 as
she slept.

VII

THE MOMENT DRAWS NEAR

Not knowing your own mind, though generally referred to as an
intellectual weakness and sometimes as a moral fault, is none the less
now and then a pleasant state to live in for a while. There is a
richness of possibility about it, a variety of prospects open, a choice
of roads each in its own fashion attractive. Besides, you can always
tell yourself that it is prudent to look all round the question and
consider all alternatives.