to sweep Ailsa through and through, and her eyes
shone, and she clasped and unclasped her hands with excitement as she
breathed, "O, is that _really_ true? It seems too good; too much like
a story-book."

"Yes, it is a fact. Major Carew's family was a younger branch, and
sixteen years ago it would never have entered anyone's head that the
marquisate might fall to them. Time makes many changes, and three
heirs have died in succession. The present marquis is old and has no
children, therefore the next heir was Richard Fourtenay-Carew, also
childless, and after him Major Carew's father. Richard Carew died very
shortly after this man left England, and young Geoffrey Carew then
succeeded to all his possessions. I believe something was left to
Major Carew, but he refused to touch it. It is since then that (his
uncle being dead) he has become the heir of the present marquis, and I
think it highly probable he has no notion of the fact whatever."

"I am almost certain he has not," Ailsa intercepted, "for I think he
would have mentioned it to my husband."

"Unfortunately there is very little money with the title, but he is
not a man to trouble much about that; and, of course, the present
marquis may live some time. But I have thought sometimes if he _knew_
it might wipe out a little of the past bitterness. His brother robbed
him of so much, but in the end it would seem Nature is making things
even again. Geoffrey would give half his wealth to have the title, and
I have reason to believe that it is a great bitterness to him to know
that his brother, who cares nothing at all about it probably, must
inevitably inherit it if he outlives the present owner."

"And you will tell him?..." eagerly.

"Perhaps. Or it may be that you!..." He hesitated, and looked at her
thoughtfully.

And then Ailsa said impulsively, "Let me give you trust for trust. I
am taking this journey now chiefly on Major Carew's account. There is
trouble in the air. I cannot tell you the facts; I scarcely know them.
But he has lived his isolated, reserved life so long, I feel it has
perhaps warped his view a little, and if he could be persuaded to open
his heart to a friend he might see things in a clearer light, and save
himself and a dear friend of mine great unhappiness." She paused, then
added sadly, "But I am so much in the dark concerning him I hardly
know how to win his confidence. There appears to have been this
something before he left England, someth