ot this by feminine arts out of Mr. Paul Pardriff, to whom she
had not confided the fact of her possession of the clipping.

The Honourable Hilary gave a grunt, as he always did when he was
surprised and displeased, as though some one had prodded him with a
stick in a sensitive spot.

"Your son? Why, Vane, you never told me that," said Mr. Flint. "I didn't
know that you knew him, Victoria."

"I don't," answered Victoria, "but I'd like to. What did he do to Mr.
Blodgett?" she demanded of Hilary.

"Mr. Blodgett!" exclaimed that gentleman. "I never heard of him. What's
happened to him?"

"He will probably recover," she assured him.

The Honourable Hilary, trying in vain to suppress his agitation, rose to
his feet.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Victoria," he said, but his
glance was fixed on the clipping in her hand.

"Haven't you seen it?" she asked, giving it to him.

He read it in silence, groaned, and handed it to Mr. Flint, who had been
drumming on the table and glancing at Victoria with vague disapproval.
Mr. Flint read it and gave it back to the Honourable Hilary, who groaned
again and looked out of the window.

"Why do you feel badly about it?" asked Victoria. "I'd be proud of him,
if I were you."

"Proud of him" echoed Mr. Vane, grimly. "Proud of him!"

"Victoria, what do you mean?" said Mr. Flint.

"Why not?" said Victoria. "He's done nothing to make you ashamed.
According to that clipping, he's punished a man who richly deserved to
be punished, and he has the sympathy of an entire county."

Hilary Vane was not a man to discuss his domestic affliction with
anybody, so he merely grunted and gazed persistently out of the window,
and was not aware of the fact that Victoria made a little face at him as
she left the room. The young are not always impartial judges of the old,
and Victoria had never forgiven him for carrying to her father the news
of an escapade of hers in Ripton.

As he drove through the silent forest roads on his way homeward
that afternoon, the Honourable Hilary revolved the new and intensely
disagreeable fact in his mind as to how he should treat a prodigal
who had attempted manslaughter and was a fugitive from justice. In the
meantime a tall and spare young man of a red-bronze colour alighted
from the five o'clock express at Ripton and grinned delightedly at the
gentlemen who made the station their headquarters about train time.
They were privately disappointed that th