ock in the best of spirits.

Andrew met him in the hall.

"Hullo," said Heriot, "where have you been all this time?"

"I want to speak to you for a minute," his son replied, and then, as his
father turned naturally towards the library door, stayed him. "There's
some one in there. Just come into the dining-room for a moment."

"Who's in there?"

Andrew waited till he had got him behind the closed door, and then said
very gravely--

"It's Mrs. Dunbar and a friend of hers."

"What friend?--Not old Charlie Munro?"

"A Mr. Brown. Possibly you've not heard of him before, but I understand
he's a connection of her late husband's family. She's asked him to come
and meet you."

The exceeding solemnity of his manner obviously affected Heriot's high
spirits.

"What's up?" he inquired.

"I should hardly think you would need to ask that, considering what has
passed between you. In fact, I gather that they want to be satisfied
there's some reasonable explanation of your conduct."

Mr. Walkingshaw gently whistled.

"Oh, that's the game, is it? Well, I suppose I'll just have to tell him
the simple truth, in justice to myself."

His son heartily agreed.

"It's the only thing to be done," said he, "the only honest course left,
so far as I can see. Just make a clean breast of everything, and you may
trust me to confirm all you say."

"My dear boy, you're devilish good. I'm afraid I really haven't been as
appreciative lately as I ought. You're talking like a sportsman now.
Come on, we'll go in and tackle 'em together."

He took his son's arm and gave him a friendly smile as they crossed the
hall; but the seriousness of the situation seemed to prevent Andrew from
returning these evidences of comradeship.

The injured lady met her betrayer with marked constraint. She seemed to
anticipate little pleasure from the interview, but had evidently made
up her mind to go through with it as a duty she owed her reputation and
her friend Mr. Brown. This gentleman was grave, elderly, and of an
unmistakably professional aspect. In a vague way Heriot fancied he had
seen his face before, though he could not recollect where.

"Well," said Mr. Walkingshaw genially, "here we all are; and now what's
the business before the meeting?"

"I understand," replied Mr. Brown, in a calm and gentle voice, "that you
have broken off your engagement with this lady. Now, as a--well, I may
say, as an interested friend of Mrs. Dunbar, I should very mu