torments for whose virulence I take his word; that I announced his
death knowing him to be alive; and that I then in a criminal and
shameful manner appropriated his estate to my own use. May all
wicked and foolish men be laid by the heels as I have been, and may
their relatives be as forgiving as mine! This paper I sign
cheerfully and penitently."

It was a pale and flabby-cheeked Writer to the Signet who laid down his
pen after reading and signing this lucid document. He stalked solemnly
to the door, and then with a chastened air addressed them--

"May Heaven forgive you."

Thus in a blaze of appropriate piety the star of Andrew Walkingshaw set.
There is small probability of his ever becoming an Example again. At
present it is his arduous task to live down, by the austerity of his
demeanor and the judicious expenditure of his wife's income, the
suspicions connected with the apparition at his dinner party, and his
subsequent act of inexplicable magnanimity in divesting himself of his
fortune and handing it to his brother and sister. It is with the
greatest regret that the editor of these few simple facts finds himself
unable to cap with a suitable reward the career of well-principled
respectability so unfortunately interrupted; but his obligations to the
illogical truth are peremptory.

* * * * *

"My dear old boys and jolly good sportsmen, and all the rest of it,"
said Heriot jovially, "don't mention it--don't mention it. What can you
do to show your dashed gratitude? There's only one thing; one blooming
favor I ask of you: send me to a good public school!"

CHAPTER VII

The devious lane was filled with sunshine; the studio being lighted only
from the north was filled instead with happiness. The same two sat
there; but to-day she was no longer so demurely clad and all the aches
and weariness were gone, and he no longer fumed.

"Is this better than scrubbing the floor of a ward?" he smiled.

"Buying a trousseau is harder work than you realize, Lucas," she
answered, with that touch of reproof by which all good women remind man
gently but daily that it is her part to suffer, his to misunderstand.

There followed a space of happy silence, and then she said--

"Didn't I tell you that everything would come right if we waited?"

"Yes," he admitted, "that was one of your good guesses."

She raised her delicate brows.

"Aren't you happy _now_?"

"