ears away, and sat with eyelashes
wet and cheeks slightly flushed, looking astoundingly young and pretty
in the excitement of the moment. But Miss Brooke was doomed to be
disappointed. Caspar began once, twice, thrice--and broke down
irrevocably. The only intelligible words he got out were, "My dear
friends, I can't tell you how I thank you." And that was quite true: he
couldn't.

But there was all the more applause, and all the more kindly feeling for
that failure of his to make a speech; and then one or two other men
spoke of the good that Mr. Brooke had done in that neighborhood, and of
the help that he had given them all in founding the club, and of the
brave and encouraging words that he had spoken to them, and so on; and
the young artist for the _Graphic_ sketched away faster and faster, and
said to himself, "My eye, there'll be a precious row if they try to hang
him after this, whatever he's done." But the sensation of the afternoon
was yet to come.

"I can only say once more, my friends," said Caspar, as the hour wore
away, "that I thank you for this expression of your confidence in me,
and that I have never had a prouder moment in my life than this, in
which you tell me of your own accord that you believe in my innocence of
the crime attributed to me. Of that, however, I will not speak. I wish
only, before we separate, to introduce you to my wife, who has never
been here before, and whom I am sure you will welcome for my sake."

There was a moment of astonishment. Every one knew something of the
story of Caspar's married life, and was taken aback by the appearance of
his wife. But when Maurice Kenyon led the way by clapping his hands
vigorously, someone took up the word, and cried, "Three cheers for Mrs.
Brooke." And Lady Alice started at the new title, and thought that it
sounded much better than the one by which she was usually known.

"Shall I say any more?" said Caspar, smiling as he stooped down to her.
But suddenly she rose to her feet and put her hand within his arm. "No,"
she said, "I am going to do it myself."

The storm of clapping was renewed and died away when it was perceived
that Lady Alice was about to speak. She was a little flushed, but
perfectly self-possessed, and her clear silvery voice could be heard in
every corner of the room.

"I wish to thank you, too," she said, "for your kindness to my husband
and myself. I hope I shall know more of his work here by and by, and in
the meantime