ent the tears
flashing into his dark eyes and left his sensitive mouth twitching.

"I shall not ask you anything now," he said unsteadily; "I shall have
to see you somewhere else--where there are no people--to interrupt....
But I shall tell you all I know about--your mother.... I was in
trouble--in India. Somehow or other I heard indirectly that your
mother had left Fane Court. Later it was understood that she had
eloped.... Nobody could tell me the man's name.... My people in
Ireland did not know.... And I was not on good terms with your
grandfather. So there was no hope of information from Fane Court.... I
wrote, indeed, begging, beseeching for news of your mother. Sir
Barry--your grandfather--returned my letters unopened.... And that is
all I have ever heard concerning Eileen Fane--your mother--with whom
I--fell in love--nearly twenty years ago."

Dulcie, marble pale, nodded.

"I knew you cared for my mother," she said.

"How did you learn it?"

"Some letters of hers written to you. Letters from you to her. I have
nothing else of hers except some verses and little songs--like the one
you recognised."

"Child, she wrote it as I sat beside her!----" His voice choked,
broke, and his lips quivered as he fought for self-control again....
"I was not welcome at Fane Court.... Sir Barry would not tolerate
me.... Your mother was more kind.... She was very young. And so was I,
Dulcie.... There were political troubles. I was always involved. God
knows which was the stronger passion--it must have been love of
country--the other seeming hopeless--with the folk at Fane Court my
bitter enemies--only excepting your mother.... So I went away.... And
which of the Soanes your mother eloped with I have never learned....
Now, tell me--for you surely know that much."

She said:

"There is a man called Soane who tells me sometimes that he was once a
gamekeeper at what he calls 'the big house.' I have always supposed
him to be my father until within the last year. But recently, when he
has been drinking heavily, he sometimes tells me that my name is not
Soane but Fane.... Did you ever know of such a man?"

"No. There were gamekeepers about.... No. I cannot recall--and it is
impossible! A gamekeeper! And your _mother_! The man is mad! What in
God's name does all this mean!----"

He began to tremble, and his white forehead under the clustering curls
grew damp and pinched again.

"If you are Eileen's daughter----" But his face w