then at once took the serious, business air,
which still gave his mother a pleasure which was half amusement. Felicia,
sitting in a corner behind her mother's sofa, could not take her eyes
from him. The tall, fair English youth, six foot two, and splendidly
developed, the pink of health, modesty, and kindly courtesy, was
different from all other beings that had ever swum into her view. She
watched him close and furtively--his features, his dress, his gestures;
comparing the living man in her mind with the photograph upstairs, and so
absorbed in her study of him that she scarcely heard a word of the
triangular discussion going on between her mother, Tatham, and Victoria.
The whole time she was drinking in impressions, as of a god-like
creature, all beneficence.

After an hour's cross-examination of the poor, shrinking Netta, Tatham's
blood too was up; he was eager for the fray. To attack Melrose was a joy;
made none the less keen by the reflection that to help these two helpless
ones was a duty. Lydia's approval, Lydia's sympathy were certain; he
kindled the more.

"All right!" he said, rising. "Now I think we are agreed on the first
step. Faversham is our man. I must see Faversham at once, and set him to
work! If I find him, I will report the result to you, Mrs. Melrose--so
far--by luncheon time."

He departed, to ring up the Threlfall office in Pengarth and inquire
whether Faversham could be seen there. Victoria left the room with him.

"Have you forgotten these rumours of which Undershaw wrote you?"

"What, as to Faversham? No, I have not forgotten them. But I shan't take
any notice of them. He can't accept anything for himself till these two
have got their due! What right has he to Melrose's property at all?"
said the young man indignantly.

* * * * *

The mother and son had scarcely left the room when Netta turned to her
daughter with trembling lips.

"I haven't"--half whispering--"told them anything about the Hermes!"

"It was no theft!" said Felicia passionately. "I would tell anybody!"

Netta was silent, her face working with unspoken fear. Suddenly, Felicia
said in her foreign English, pronounced with a slight effort, and very
precisely:

"That is a very beautiful young man!"

Netta was startled.

"Lord Tatham? Not at all, Felicia. He is very nice, but I do not even
call him good-looking."

"He is a very beautiful young man," repeated Felicia with emphasis, "and
I