been an hour gone; then open it. Will you
promise me that?"

"I promise."

"And now good-bye. Success and good fortune to you," said Brian, trying
to smile. "When we meet again----"

"Shall we ever meet again?" said Dino, with one arm round Brian's neck,
with his eyes looking straight into Brian's, with a look of pathetic
longing which his friend never could forget. "Or is it a last farewell?
Brother--my brother--God bless thee, and bring thee home at last." But
it was of no earthly home that Dino thought.

And then they parted.

It was more than an hour before Dino thought of opening the letter which
Brian had left with him. It ran as follows:--

"Dino mio, pardon me if I have done wrongly. You told my story and I
have told yours. I feared lest you, in your generosity, should hide the
truth, and therefore I have written fully to your mother. Go to her if
she sends for you, and remember that she has suffered much. I have told
her that you have the proofs: show them to her, and she will be
convinced. God bless you, my only friend and brother."

Dino's head dropped upon his hands. Were all his efforts vain to free
himself from the burden of a wealth which he did not desire? The Prior
of San Stefano had forced him into the position of a claimant to the
estate. With his long-formed habits of obedience it seemed impossible to
gainsay the Prior's will. Here, in England, it was easier. And Dino was
more and more resolved to take his own way.

A letter was brought to him at that moment. He opened it, and let his
eyes run mechanically down the sheet. Then he started violently, and
read it again with more attention. It contained one sentence and a
signature:--

"If Dino Vasari of San Stefano will visit me at Netherglen, I will hear
what he has to say.

"Margaret Luttrell."

Could he have expected more? And yet, to his excited fancy, the words
seemed cold and hard.

CHAPTER XXXI.

ACCUSER AND ACCUSED.

There had been solemn council in the house of Netherglen. Mrs. Luttrell
and Mr. Colquhoun had held long interviews; letters and papers of all
sorts had been produced and compared; the dressing-room door was closed
against all comers, and even Angela was excluded. Hugo was once
summoned, and came away from the conference with the air of a desperate
man at once baffled and fierce. He lurked about the dark corners of the
house, as if he were afraid to appear in the light of the day; but he
took no one i