h--here it is--and we'll jolly soon see if the game hand has been at
work in both."

Watching him as he pored over the two papers Sir Richard told himself
that with this man for her champion Chloe Carstairs need not fear
further condemnation at the hands of a censorious or jealous world. He
knew instinctively that what made Anstice so suddenly keen on
discovering the authorship of the letters was not a selfish desire to
rid himself of the annoyance such letters might bring upon him, but
rather a determination to prove Chloe Carstairs innocent in the first
instance by bringing home the guilt for both letters--or series of
letters--to the right quarter.

Sir Richard made no mistake in his estimation of Anstice's chivalrous
desire to right the wrong which had been done to Mrs. Carstairs. He knew
quite well that to Anstice the righting of the wrong appeared in the
light of a duty to the woman whom he called his friend; and that no
warmer emotion animated him in regard to Chloe Carstairs than that same
chivalry.

For Iris' father had not been blind to the significance of the events of
the summer. Although Anstice had never betrayed his secret by word or
look the other man had all along had a suspicion that Cheniston was not
alone in his love for his pretty daughter; and although naturally he was
ignorant of the compact entered into by the two younger men he had
sometimes wondered, with just the least possible tinge of regret, why
Anstice had apparently been content to leave the field to his rival.

Although he admitted to himself that he had absolutely no grounds for
believing that Anstice had been in love with Iris he could never rid
himself of the notion; and in any case he felt quite certain that
Anstice had no warmer feeling for Mrs. Carstairs than a very genuine and
chivalrous friendliness.

Watching the younger man as he stood with bent head examining the papers
Sir Richard was struck by the change in Anstice's face during the last
few months. Always thin, it was now positively haggard, and the black
hair which clustered round his brow was touched, here and there, with
grey. Yet the effect was not one of age. He could hardly be said to look
older than his years; but there was a look of something more painful
than a premature ageing would have been--a look of suffering, of bitter
experience impatiently borne, of a mental conflict which had drawn lines
round the fine lips, and given an air of hopeless weariness to t