it, ennobled by the large indistinctness, the quiet
massing of the evening tones.

His heart withdrew itself into some inner shrine where it might be with
Lydia. She represented to him some force, some help, to which he turned.

Please God, he would win her!--and through a piece of honourable
work--the cleansing of an ugly corner of human life. A nobler ambition
than he had ever yet been conscious of, entered in. He felt himself a
better man, with a purpose in the world.

Nor, at this critical moment, did he forget his uncle--the man who had
been a father to him in his orphaned boyhood. What pleasure the dear old
fellow would have taken in this new opening--and in Melrose's marvellous
possessions! By the way--Melrose had said nothing about the gems for a
long time past, and Faversham was well content to leave them in his
temporary keeping. But his superstitious feeling about them--and all men
have some touch of superstition--was stronger than ever. It was as though
he protested anew to some hovering shape, which took the aspect now of
Mackworth, now of Fortuna--"Stand by me!--even as I hold by them."

The chiming clock in the gallery--a marvel of French _horlogerie_, made
for the Regent Orleans--had just finished striking eleven. Melrose, who
had been speaking with energy through the soft, repeated notes, threw
himself back in his chair, and lit a cigarette. His white hair shone
against the panelled background of the room, and, beneath it, framed in
bushy brows still black, a pair of menacing eyes fixed themselves on
Faversham.

Faversham remained for a minute at the table, looking down upon it, his
hand resting on the document from which he had been reading. Then he too
pushed his chair slowly backward, and looked up.

"I understand then, Mr. Melrose, that these proposals of mine do not meet
with your approval?"

"I have told you what I approve."

"You have approved a few matters--of minor importance. But my chief
proposals"--he ran his finger lightly over the pages of his memorandum,
enumerating the various headings--"these, if I have understood you
correctly, are not to your mind, and you refuse to sanction them?"

The face before him was as iron.

"Let half these things wait, I tell you, and they will settle themselves.
I pointed out to you when we made our bargain, that I would not have my
estate run on any damned Socialist principles."

Faversham smiled; but he had grown very pale. "Your financial pro