, you tried for another. I knew--I
knew all along. But the game is up now, and you've lost." A very bitter
smile curved his mouth with the words. "There is your explanation," he
said. "I hope you are satisfied."

"But I am not satisfied!" Quick as lightning came the _riposte_. Scott
stood upright against the closed door. His eyes, unflickering, dazzlingly
bright, were fixed upon his brother's face. "I am not satisfied," he
repeated, and his words were as sternly direct as his look; he spoke as
one compelled by some inner, driving force, "because what you have just
said to me--this foul thing you believe of me--is utterly and absolutely
without foundation. I have never tried--or dreamed of trying--to win her
from you. I speak as before God. In this matter I have never been other
than loyal either to you or to my own honour. If any other man insulted
me in this fashion," his face worked a little, but he controlled it
sharply, "I wouldn't have stooped to answer him. But you--I suppose I
must allow you the--privilege of brotherhood. And so I ask you to
believe--at least to make an effort to believe--that you have made a
mistake."

His voice was absolutely quiet as he ended. The dignity of his utterance
had in it even a touch of the sublime, and the elder man was aware of it,
felt the force of it, was humbled by it. He stood a moment or two as one
irresolute, halting at a difficult choice. Then, with an abrupt lift of
the head as though his pride made fierce resistance, he gave ground.

"If I have wronged you, I apologize," he said with brevity.

Scott smiled faintly, wryly. "If--" he said.

"Very well, I withdraw the 'if.'" Sir Eustace spoke impatiently, not as
one desiring reconciliation. "You laid yourself open to it by accepting
the position of ambassador. I don't know how you could seriously imagine
that I would treat with you in that capacity. If Dinah has anything to
say to me, she must say it herself."

"She will do so," Scott spoke with steady assurance. "But before you see
her, I think I ought to tell you that her reason for wishing to be set
free is not stage-fright or any childish nonsense of that kind; but
simply the plain fact that her heart is not in the compact. She has found
out that she doesn't love you enough."

"She told you so?" demanded Sir Eustace.

Scott bent his head, for the first time averting his eyes from his
brother's face. "Yes."

"And she wished you to tell me?" There was a metallic