his quick start
and turn as the door of the smoking-room opened showed him to be not
merely thoughtful but expectant.

He sprang up.

"Is that you, Oliver?"

He came forward eagerly. He had known Marsham from a child, had watched
his career, and formed a very shrewd opinion of his character. But how
this supreme moment would turn--if, indeed, the supreme moment had
arrived--Sir James had no idea.

Marsham closed the door behind him, and in the lamplight the two men
looked at each other. Marsham's brow was furrowed, his cheeks pale. His
eyes, restless and bright, interrogated his old friend. At the first
glance Sir James understood. He thrust his hands into his pockets.

"You know?" he said, under his breath.

Marsham nodded.

"And you--have known it all along?"

"From the first moment, almost, that I set eyes on that poor child. Does
_she_ know? Have you broken it to her?"

The questions hurried on each other's heels. Marsham shook his head, and
Sir James, turning away, made a sound that was almost a groan.

"You have proposed to her?"

"Yes."

"And she has accepted you?"

"Yes." Marsham walked to the mantel-piece, and hung over the fire.

Sir James watched him for a moment, twisting his mouth. Then he walked
up to his companion and laid a hand on his arm.

"Stick it out, Oliver!" he said, breathing quick. "Stick it out! You'll
have to fight--but she's worth it."

Marsham's hand groped for his. Sir James pressed it, and walked away
again, his eyes on the carpet. When he came back, he said, shortly:

"You know your mother will resist it to the last?"

By this, Marsham had collected his forces, and as he turned to the
lamplight, Sir James saw a countenance that reassured him.

"I have no hope of persuading her. It will have to be faced."

"No, I fear there is no hope. She sees all such things in a false light.
Forgive me--we must both speak plainly. She will shudder at the bare
idea of Juliet Sparling's daughter as your wife; she will think it means
a serious injury to your career--in reality it does nothing of the
sort--and she will regard it as her duty to assert herself."

"You and Ferrier must do all you can for me," said Marsham, slowly.

"We shall do everything we can, but I do not flatter myself it will be
of the smallest use. And supposing we make no impression--what then?"

Marsham paused a moment; then looked up.

"You know the terms of my father's will? I am absolutely dependent on