Abbey Burnfoot as soon as he knew that he was home, he added,
"You will find the wine good, Mr. Wemyss. I will now leave you to
yourselves. By the way, can I send up anything from the kitchen?--A
hungry man, you know, can do no business with a man well dined, as I
warrant you Cairn Ferris has!"

But Julian Wemyss begged Lord Raincy to stay. What he had to say
concerned him also, or at least his grandson, and all who were
interested in Miss Patricia Ferris. As to supper, he had already had
something at his own house, where his servant had been instructed to be
ready for him.

But he took a glass of wine, and, after draining it, he said, speaking
quietly and leaning a little towards the two gentlemen, "I have had the
misfortune to kill my Lord Wargrove in a duel on Calais sands."

"Gad," said the Earl, "if it had only been his master! But so far, so
good!"

"Why did you come back here?" put in Adam. "Why did you come back from
France?"

"Because in France my work was only half done," Julian spoke gravely.
"There was some one in London whom it was my duty to consult. Whatever
happened it was necessary to risk a conference with ... that person. My
Lord (here he turned abruptly upon Earl Raincy), Adam there is wholly
incapable of bringing up Patsy as she ought. She runs the country--with
the adventurous lads who play at smuggling. She comes and goes at her
will and not a soul is disquieted about her."

The faint flicker of a smile passed over the cheek of the old Earl.

"Well, Mr. Wemyss," he said, "you have known more women than ever I
spoke to--for all my frosty poll--and can you say on your conscience
that there was ever a one of them more charming, sweeter, or more
ladylike than your niece Miss Patricia?"

"That, my Lord, is not the question," said Julian, smiling also and
shaking his head. "Patsy is all you say and more. But if she had been
better trained and somewhat more under control, she would never have run
like a hare to the Wild of Blairmore, the Duke of Lyonesse would have
been spared the charge of buckshot in his haunch, and I should not have
had the death of Lord Wargrove on my hands."

"Pooh," said the old Earl, "that is what every man runs the risk of.
'Tis not the first time you have held a foil. Who were your seconds?"

"Mine? Oh, Erskine and the Prince of Thurn and Taxis. I was not
particularly keen about Erskine, but he has his relations with the court
party and would report that all was done