efore Hugo had felt himself obliged to use what he
called "strong measures."

He did not like strong measures. They were disagreeable to him. But they
were less disagreeable than the thought of being poor. Hugo made little
account of human life and human suffering so long as the suffering did
not actually touch himself. He seemed to be born with as little heart as
a beast of prey, which strikes when it is angry, or when it wants food,
with no remorse and no regret. "A disagreeable necessity," Hugo called
his evil deed, but he considered that the law of self-preservation
justified him in what he did.

And Brian Luttrell? What reason was it that made him fling prudence to
the winds, and follow the Herons to the neighbourhood of a place where
he had resolved never to show his face again?

There was one great, overmastering reason--so great that it made him
attempt what was well-nigh impossible. His love for Elizabeth Murray had
taken full possession of him: he dreamed of her, he worshipped the very
ground she trod upon; he would have sacrificed life itself for the
chance of a gentle word from her.

Life, but not honour. Much as he loved her, he would have fled to the
very ends of the earth if he had known, if he had for one moment
suspected, that she was the Miss Murray who owned the landed estate
which once went with the house and grounds of Netherglen.

It seemed almost incredible that he should not have had this fact forced
from the first upon his knowledge; but such at present was the case.
They had remained in Italy for the first three months of his engagement,
and, during that time, he had not lived in the Villa Venturi, but simply
given his lessons and taken his departure. Sometimes he breakfasted or
lunched with the family party, but at such times no business affairs
were discussed. And Elizabeth had made it a special request that Mr.
Stretton should not be informed of the fact that it was she who
furnished money for the expenses of the household. She had taken care
that his salary should be as large as she could make it without
attracting remark, but she had an impression that Mr. Stretton would
rather be paid by Mr. Heron than by her. And, as she wished for silence
on the subject of her lately-inherited wealth, and as the Herons were of
that peculiarly happy-go-lucky disposition that did not consider the
possession of wealth a very important circumstance, Mr. Stretton passed
the time of his sojourn in Italy