self
away he could write to her, and--he might look out the trains to
Southminster. He leaped into a hansom and hurried back to his rooms.

The porter met him in a mysterious manner in the entrance. Lady waiting
to see him. Lady said she was his sister. Had been waiting two hours. In
his rooms now.

Hugh laughed, and ran up the wide, common staircase. His sister had
heard the news from his mother and had rushed over at once.

As he stooped a little to fit the latch-key on his chain into the lock a
man, who was coming down the stairs feeling in his pockets, stopped with
a sudden exclamation. It was Captain Pratt, pallid, smiling, hair newly
varnished, resplendent in a magnificent fur overcoat.

"What luck," he said. "Scarlett, I think. We met at Wilderleigh. Have
you such a thing as a match about you?"

Hugh felt in his pockets. He had not one.

"Never mind," he said, opening the door. "I've plenty inside. Come in."

Hugh went in first, extricating his key. Captain Pratt followed,
murmuring, "Nice little dens, these. A pal of mine lives just
above--Streatham. You know Streatham, son of Lord--"

The remainder of the sentence was lost.

The door opened straight into the little sitting-room.

A woman in deep mourning rose suddenly out of a chair by the fire and
came towards them.

"Hughie!" she said.

It was Lady Newhaven.

It is probable that none of the tableaux she had arranged were quite so
dramatic as this one, in which she had not reckoned on that elaborate
figure in the door-way.

Captain Pratt's opinion of Hugh, whom he had hitherto regarded as a
pauper with an involved estate, leaped from temperate to summer
heat--blood-heat. After the first instant he kept his eyes steadily
fixed on Hugh.

"I--er--thank you, Scarlett. I have found my matches. A thousand thanks.
Good-night."

He was disappearing, but Hugh, his eyes flashing in his gray face, held
him forcibly by the arm.

"Lady Newhaven," he said, "the porter is inexcusable. These are my rooms
which he has shown you into by mistake, not Mr. Streatham's, your
nephew. He is just above. I think," turning to Captain Pratt, "Streatham
is out of town."

"He is out of town," said Captain Pratt, looking with cold admiration at
Hugh. "Admirable," he said to himself; "a born gentleman."

"This is not the first time Streatham's visitors have been shown in
here," continued Hugh. "The porter shall be dismissed. I trust you will
forgive me my share in t